The Spirit of Black Keep
by SurferSquid
Summary: A thousand years after the Darkest Knight terrorized Market Town, over a decade after the Darkest Faerie brought him back to briefly continue his tyranny, Black Keep is once again experiencing the rumblings of evil magic. Pharazon and Celice must return to Black Keep before darkness once again spreads across the land. Published in the Neopian Times, issues 743-753.
1. Chapter 1

The reason he'd gotten himself into this, Pharazon decided, was because he could never say "no" to anything.

The faerie Draik perched on the edge of the bed in his cabin in a Shenkuuvian sky-ship, staring at the letter in his claws, not really seeing the words so much as coming to the realisation that he was hopelessly wishy-washy.

He'd go along with anyone just to avoid a quarrel—and even then he'd end up petering out somewhere along the way, retreating to the safety of merely existing. Really, he just wanted to sit and read all day. No adventures for him. The world was so much safer from the library of his family's Neohome.

With a sigh, Pharazon glanced out the porthole. It was late afternoon and the sinking sun had turned the clouds golden. A beautiful time of day, by anyone's standards, but it also meant soon he would have to venture to the dining room on the upper decks for dinner.

He scowled and tucked his knees to his chin. He hated travelling, and he hated travelling alone even more. But Celice had been too busy to come and pick him up from Altador—

Pharazon looked back at the letter in his hand and wished the Weewoo that delivered it had been waylaid. But no, here it was and here _he_ was because, in true wishy-washy fashion, he had heeded its demands.

Laying back on the mattress, he read the paper for the umpteenth time.

 _Dear Pharazon,_

 _How have you been? It's been a while since I've last visited. I apologise for the inconvenience, but inter-kingdom relations and magic studies do tend to keep one busy._

Pharazon's other hand reached for the Lupe Moon Charm around his neck. He and Celice had established a magical connection with the charm that enabled them to speak with each other instantaneously, regardless of physical distance. It was better in theory than in practice, as they obviously could not interrupt each other's lives all the time with random conversations. There was also the fact that as Celice had no receiving implement, she had to sustain her end of the conversation solely through her own power, which could be draining.

Pharazon had gotten off easy in that regard. He liked finding ways to get off easy. Too bad he hadn't now, or else he wouldn't be on this sky-ship.

At any rate, that was why she had Neomailed him the message. She probably, he thought, also wanted to make good and sure he wouldn't conveniently forget her instructions.

His eyes wandered back to the letter.

 _Now, don't try to deny it. I know you've been slacking in your magical training._

Pharazon groaned and flopped his hand over his forehead. Just like he'd done the first time he'd read this.

 _It's been two years since we discovered you had magical aptitude. You have got to start doing something about it besides accompanying me to Jerdana's lectures and nodding noncommittally whenever I tell you to find a teacher. We've barely made any progress with you at all_.

He couldn't help but smile ruefully at the memories of all the times Celice had thrown up her white Lupe paws in exasperation at him during their impromptu training sessions. It wasn't that Pharazon wasn't any good at magic—he just wasn't any good at _trying_. His heart wasn't in it, despite Celice's ambitions for him. Magic was all good and well to read about, but when it came to actually practising it…

Well, there was a good reason he shied away from practising magic, as Celice's next paragraph so kindly reminded him.

 _Don't let everything you learned from Skoll go to waste. I know that situation wasn't pleasant, but just try to look at the positives. I mean, you're still alive, so that's something._

Pharazon's stomach knotted and he placed his claws over it. A little over two years ago, he and his owner had briefly been imprisoned by the Werelupe King in the mountains between Meridell and Brightvale.

Granted, his owner Terra had handled the situation expertly, befriending the Werelupe King and defusing all of the tension between him and their family, not to mention his neighboring kingdoms and the villages he ruled over.

But meanwhile, Pharazon had tried to be the hero, and it came back to bite him and very nearly destroyed all of Neopia. That still ate at him, and shattered whatever budding self-confidence he'd possessed.

He let out a deep breath and stared up at the cabin ceiling, following the patterns in the varnished wood and feeling the painful memories well up again.

In the depths of his fear and despair, Pharazon had been befriended by Skoll, the Werelupe Sage, who began to teach him magic with the goal of helping him and Terra escape from the Werelupe Burrows someday.

But it all turned out to be a terrible ruse. Skoll wanted to cultivate Pharazon's magical ability and gain his trust in order to use the faerie Draik's power to catalyze an ancient magic sink. He succeeded, and Pharazon had nearly been consumed, but clung to life by the skin of his teeth and took his power back from Skoll, who was destroyed when the magical backlash proved stronger than the Werelupe had anticipated.

Whenever Pharazon read about that sort of thing in books, the Neopet involved would always walk away with a new sense of confidence in themselves and a determination to continue battling against the forces of evil.

In real life, it just made Pharazon want to lose his lunch. After he'd messed up so badly, he could never trust himself to do anything great—or even helpful. Especially not with magic.

At least, that was what he kept telling himself. And then of course this had to go and happen.

With a frown he read the rest of the letter.

 _That's why I'm inviting you to accompany me on an assignment from Master Seradar. There have been reports of strange activity at Black Keep in Market Town. It's nothing malevolent, just strange lights and noises in what's supposed to be an abandoned fortress, and it's been spooking the Market Townsfolk. As I'm sure you know, they're mainly merchants, so the Traders' Guild sent in a request to Brightvale Castle for an investigation by a court-certified magic user._

 _Of course, those sorts of cases go directly to Master Seradar, and as pretty much everyone else is busy with thesis papers, an upcoming mages' tournament, and an outbreak of Neezles, he tasked me with the job. I'm sure the two of us can handle it with no problems._

 _I expect to see you here at Brightvale University no later than the tenth of Running, which should give you time enough to book a sky-ship._

 _Cheers,_

 _Lady Celice Anfel_

 _Brightvale University Academy of Magic_

Pharazon sighed again, rolled over, and watched the clouds drift by outside.

This ship had left Altador's skyport three days ago, with an estimated arrival date at Brightvale of the 7th Running, five days from now. All passenger ships travelled at this rate, sacrificing speed for comfort and amenities for their hundreds of occupants.

It was the same principle as the Lupe Moon Charm. All the magic and Virtupets technology in Neopia meant that there were much faster ways to get around, such as portals and starships. But in practical application, portals took an enormous amount of energy to sustain. And starships were still considered esoteric by Neopia at large, with very few on-world resources such as fuel and properly-educated technicians to support them, so they were mainly used for transport around the Space Station and Kreludor.

And except in the case of emergencies, no one wanted to pay out the nose for a smaller, faster ship, even though those were capable of going halfway around Neopia in as little as thirty-six hours if the engines were pushed to their limits. So larger Shenkuuvian sky-ships filled the niche of mass long-distance travel at just the perfect intersection of convenience and cost.

Naturally, the passenger lines played up the "comfort and amenities" part quite a bit. The largest sky-ships were like flying Neolodges, with formal dinner rooms and live music and swimming pools. There were even a few immense liners that had their own on-board Neomail service, with Weewoos flitting about dropping messages into portholes.

The vessel Pharazon's owner had booked him on was not quite of that calibre, but still nothing to sneeze at. Between the plush carpeting in his cabin, the all-you-can-eat dining room, and the game room on the recreation deck that featured such classics as _Meerca Chase_ and newer releases like _Assignment 53_ , Pharazon would definitely consider this trip luxurious.

It was definitely nothing like his family's usual mode of travel: on the back of Gwyneth, his enormous Petpet Ganuthor.

He missed them. Why couldn't they have come with them? They usually went everywhere together as a family, but Hyren had some business to attend to with some old contacts on the Virtupets Space Station, and Terra and Blynn elected to go with him. They'd reassured the Draik that he would be just fine and Celice would look out for him. Personally, Pharazon thought Terra was mad for letting him go anywhere alone after they'd been kidnapped in Shenkuu.

Pharazon's stomach grumbled, and the Draik made a face. He'd have to go get food. Which meant interacting with other Neopets. Maybe, he thought, he should have just bought fifty packets of dehydrated blueberry gateaux so he could stay holed up in his cabin the entire time, reading. He glanced down at his luggage trunk full of books.

Well, just being stuck on a boat with a bunch of other Neopets didn't mean he was forced to socialise. Sliding off the bed, he snatched up his copy of _Why Red Moltite Rocks_ and trudged into the hallway.

All he had to do was let Celice drag him along on this inconsequential errand, and then he could book the next flight back home, pretend like none of this ever happened, and go back to being comfortably noncommittal.

The universe, as he was most uncomfortably going to find out, had other plans.


	2. Chapter 2

Five days later, on a grey drizzly afternoon, Pharazon stepped off the gangplank of the sky-ship liner and into Brightvale's bustling skyport. He pulled the hood of his travelling cloak closer around his face to protect himself from the chill air, watching his breath pool in front of his snout every time he exhaled. Spring was just getting under way here in the Meridell region, which meant the snows had left for another year, but it was still too cold for Pharazon's liking and he envied furred and feathered Neopets in this weather. On days like today he would much rather be curled up on a couch, reading.

With a sigh, he heaved his trunk into an upright position in preparation to sit on it and wait for Celice.

Before he could, a voice called out, "Pharazon!" He turned to see a familiar white Lupe waving at him from the window of a Uni-drawn carriage. "Get in before you catch Neomonia!" Celice said, gesturing inside with a smile.

"Coming!" Pharazon said, dragging his trunk across the wide dock where other Neopets unloaded cargo or boarded carriages. He should have brought a scarf, he decided. It had been deceptively warm back in Altador.

"Just toss it in the back hatch, there," the blue Uni driver said with a toss of her horn.

Pharazon did so and then climbed into the carriage, on the seat across from Celice's. He wiped the moisture from his forehead and tried to dab himself dry with his damp cloak.

The Lupe flicked a finger and a flame burst from the tip of her claw. The fire was small, but gave off an unusual amount of heat for its size.

"Thanks," Pharazon said, placing his claws up to it to warm them.

"How was the flight?" Celice asked as the carriage lurched into motion. Still holding out the flame, she crossed one leg over the other and watched him over the rims of her spectacles, her bright yellow eyes glistening in the firelight.

She looked the same as ever. Her white hair was tucked back into a prim bun, although a few strands hung loose at the sides of her face, curled slightly with the humidity. Celice was nearly twice as tall as Pharazon, about as tall as his owner, and her proportions were more owner-like as well—even Neopets of the same species could vary widely in size and physiology. She was always a snappy dresser, and today she wore robes of rich purple and gold, with a fur-lined cape to keep out the cold.

Pharazon leaned back in his seat and said, "Good," in the vaguest fashion possible.

"Just good?" Celice asked. "Do anything fun?"

"Lots of reading," Pharazon said. His eyes lit up. "Actually, I just finished _A History of Krawks_ today. Really interesting stuff. I guess there are three competing theories right now about the workings of the Fungus Cave."

"So I've heard," Celice said. "How's the family?"

"Same as always," Pharazon said. "Not much new to report. Hyren's getting excited for the next Altador Cup."

"That's in three months," Celice said.

"As he reminds us every day," Pharazon said with a laugh. He gritted his teeth as the carriage passed over a rough patch of cobblestone. "Are we headed to Market Town?"

"We'll go tomorrow," Celice said. "The augurs say the rain should clear up by tonight, and I want to set out bright and early so we can be back in Brightvale in time for supper. Then you can spend, say, a week or so at the University before going home." She grinned. "I have so missed your company."

Pharazon smiled and said, "Thanks." As much as he wanted to get back to his home as soon as possible, spending the week with Celice did sound like fun. If she was going to make him come all the way out here, he might as well enjoy himself after they got her chore out of the way.

He looked out the window at the shops and businesses passing by. They were headed straight into the heart of Brightvale's capital city, and traffic began to slow down accordingly. It was even slower on this wet day.

"What do you think's going on at Black Keep?" Pharazon asked Celice.

"It's probably just some Ghost Neopets who decided to move in," Celice said, "or kids playing with Sparkshooters. We'll go to Market Town, find out what the trouble is, and we're done. Then I can show you the library's newest acquisitions!"

"Could I maybe get a scarf, while we're at it?" Pharazon asked. "I underestimated how cold it would be here."

"Sure, you can borrow one of mine," Celice said.

The Draik was just beginning to be grateful that she hadn't asked about magic at all, when—

"So," Celice said, extinguishing the flame with another flick and folding her paws on her knee. "Have you given any thought to studying magic?"

"I have," Pharazon said honestly. Which was to say, he had thought about how he didn't want to study it.

She scrutinised him for a moment and then said. "I'm sorry, I think I came off as a little harsh in my Neomail. I just want you to fulfill your potential. You have a great gift, you know, and I think you ought to decide how you want to use it."

Pharazon's jaw tightened and he pressed his back into his seat. "What if I don't want to use it?" he asked quietly.

"Then you're missing out on an important opportunity," Celice said with a frown.

The Draik's tail swished anxiously and he drew his knees up to his chin, unable to meet her gaze. Every time they talked about this he could feel a strain on their friendship, and he wished she would change the subject.

An awkward silence passed between them before Celice cleared her throat and pointed out the window. "And here's Brightvale Castle," she said. "We'll get you situated in the guest housing. Where would you like to go for supper? The food court or a local place?" She was smiling, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Food court's fine," Pharazon said.

* * *

Brightvale University was the largest and most prestigious learning institution in Neopia, and it made sure its campus reflected that position. Brightvale Castle itself served as the main building, although the campus also sprawled to one side of the palace, and the castle town itself generally revolved around university life, catering to the needs of the students and faculty.

The central hub of the school was the atrium in Brightvale Castle's east wing. It consisted of four storeys of terraces, connected by a network of bridges, which housed all manner of shops and services from book stores to apothecaries. And capping it all was an enormous stained-glass dome that depicted various prominent scholars in Brightvale history, reminding Neopets of what they could achieve with the knowledge they gained here.

The fourth storey was completely dedicated to food. Vendors cooked cuisine from every Neopian land to give anyone a taste of home—and show off the culinary department's skills. Once purchased, meals were best consumed sitting by the large windows that offered a stunning view of Brightvale and the forests and mountains beyond. The setting sun made the rain look like curtains of dark smoke that smudged out parts of the landscape.

"Remind me again why I have to go along on your assignment," Pharazon said as he and Celice shuffled past occupied tables. The steaming bowl of chunky cauliflower soup on his tray wisped its tantalising aroma into his nostrils, making his mouth water. "I mean, I don't see how I'm going to be any help—" Distracted by the soup, his foot caught on the leg of a chair and he stumbled, barely managing to keep his food on his tray.

"Hey, watch it!" someone barked. Pharazon turned to see a scowling blue Chia in the chair next to the one he had tripped over. She moved to hover protectively over that chair's occupant. It looked like a brass typewriter with too few keys, and on top, instead of a paper-holding carriage, a loop of metal stuck out like some sort of Virtupets antenna.

"S-sorry," Pharazon said.

The Chia pulled the chair closer to herself and said, "This is a prototype hex generator, you know! One wrong move and you could've been speaking backwards all week!"

By this point Celice had noticed Pharazon was no longer following her, and she returned to loom over his shoulder like a protective older sister. "A hex generator?" she asked.

"That's right," the Chia said, sitting up proudly. "Utilising appropriated technology from Moltara, I've built a device that will allow anyone instant access to any curse imaginable!" She gestured to the keyboard. "One simply needs to type in the corresponding code, and the machine does the rest!"

"But how do you know the codes?" Pharazon asked.

Celice nodded and said, "You've got an enormous number of potential combinations, there. They'd be impossible to memorise."

"I had to make sure there was one code for each hex!" the Chia said. "It's no trouble at all—the user has merely to consult a booklet."

"Are you going to write the booklet, then?" Celice asked.

The Chia paused and put a paw to her chin, her beady eyes widening. "Oh my," she said. "That would… take quite some time."

"You didn't quite think that far ahead, did you," Celice said.

The student stuck out her chin and said, "Oh, bother that! The point is that I've made a _breakthrough!_ We can worry about the details later."

"I'll leave you to that," the Lupe said, taking Pharazon's shoulder and steering him away. "Dratted engineers and their lopsided way of looking at the world," she muttered under her breath. "It's a wonder they ever accomplish anything."

Pharazon felt like that was sort of a hypocritical thing to say, as most mages had the same problem to some degree, but he held his tongue. Rather, as they sat at an unoccupied table, he said, "You never answered me before."

Celice popped the tab on her can of jumbleberry Achyfi. "You won't have to do any actual magic," she said. "Your task is just to watch me do my job. I'm trying to help you understand how useful and harmless magic can be. It's not all about selfish destruction like Skoll thought. The beneficial uses far outweigh the malevolent uses."

"Yeah… okay," Pharazon said as he sipped at his soup, determined to remain unconvinced.

"Pharazon," Celice said. He looked up to see the Lupe wearing an expression of concern. "I also invited you because you're my friend and I thought this assignment would be pleasanter with you along. We don't get to see each other often and I miss you when we're apart, so I thought this would be a good opportunity for us to pal around." She gave him a hopeful smile. "Let's just have fun, all right? It's not a big deal."

The Draik managed a small smile back and said, "Okay." He figured as long as she wasn't expecting him to enroll in the Magic Academy as a result of this, he would at least be able to enjoy spending time with his friend.

"Great!" Celice said as she reached for her curry hot dog. "Would you like to visit the library after this? Oh, and the geology department's museum has a wonderful new exhibit featuring samples collected from Kreludor's north polar regions!"

"That sounds awesome," Pharazon said. "Let's do that."

He thought his worries were over. He couldn't have been more wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

The augurs were right—the next day was still overcast and cold, but the clouds looked much less likely to rain as Celice rented a carriage to take them to Market Town.

As the carriage bounced over the dirt highway that connected Brightvale's communities, Pharazon fingered the thick woollen scarf Celice had given him. It sported a striped pattern of browns and greens, perhaps more suited for autumn than spring, but it was the largest, warmest scarf she had. He had wanted to merely loan it from her, but she insisted that he keep it, as some sort of recompense for accompanying her. After supper the night before, she'd made no further mention of Pharazon's magical skills. It seemed as though he had at least won that round.

Now she was once again sitting across from him, one elbow propped on a windowsill, her fingers interlaced in front of her muzzle as she watched the trees pass by. Today she wore cream-coloured robes under a forest green, ivy-patterned cloak that complemented her snowy fur nicely. Her golden eyes gleamed, the Lupe sorceress lost somewhere in her thoughts. She emanated power, and not just in appearance alone—Pharazon could feel her magic buzzing around her.

All magic users had focussing tools, Celice had once explained to Pharazon. Many used wands or staves, which could double as physical weapons in a pinch. Others utilised items like jewelry or scrolls, while a number preferred verbal recitation of spell-words.

And some, like Celice, focussed their power through the very clothes they wore. Mages' robes were not to be taken lightly. Their tailors were mages themselves who crafted goods that were as much magical implements as they were dapper apparel.

Celice, of course, felt it was really the best of both worlds.

The ride would take about an hour, so Pharazon had brought a book with him and settled down to reading, although occasionally he glanced up at the scenery. Brightvale was hill country, with grass-covered downs interrupted by stark white chalk cliffs, waterfalls that poured into deep ponds, and thick patches of forest in between farmland. The shadows of clouds rolled over the countryside in a parade of dappled light and shadow.

It was the sort of thing, Pharazon thought, that someone would paint a relaxing picture of. Even now it made him feel more at ease about his situation.

"How are you holding up?" Celice asked. He turned from the window to see her watching him with a friendly smile. "I think we're almost there, from the looks of it," she added.

"Good," Pharazon said with a nod, on both counts. He was tempted to dip his snout back into his book, but she kept looking at him, and he remembered his owner telling him that was usually a sign someone wanted to engage in conversation. It was only fair, since he'd been reading this whole time.

He closed the book, keeping a claw between the pages to mark his place, and asked, "So… how's work been?"

"It's going quite well," Celice said, placing her paws primly in her lap. "Last month I accompanied Lord Isengrim to Meridell to work out trade relations. He and Skarl get along famously—due in no small part to their mutual love of feasts, I'm sure." She grinned. "I fear our dear Werelupe King may begin to develop a bit of a paunch."

Pharazon forced a chuckle. He was hoping she would talk about her scholarly work rather than her side job as a diplomat for the Werelupe Woods. After the events of two years ago, the Woods had been recognized as a legitimate kingdom by Meridell, Brightvale, and Darigan. The Werelupe King had asked Celice to assist him in establishing the proper connections with his neighbouring kingdoms, and now she divided time between that and her studies at the University.

But Pharazon still didn't like being reminded of Werelupes. Even if they were technically "good guys" now, they had put his family through too much.

Celice sat up suddenly and pointed out the window. "Oh! Here we are!" she said.

The cliffs on one side of the road had dropped off and the carriage now ran right alongside the sea. Off the coast ahead of them was a sizeable island, connected to the mainland by a high stone bridge.

The island itself was filled to the brim with buildings. Multi-storeyed, with whitewashed walls and red tiled roofs, they crowded every bit of space on the island, with a few even partly built into its cliffs, jutting out toward the ocean. Cyodrakes wheeled overhead, letting out plaintive cries, while sky-ships and sailing ships alike bobbed at their moorings at the port that networked around the isle.

"Is that Market Town?" Pharazon asked. "It's gorgeous—" His voice cut off. It was indeed an elegant, cheerful city—except for the enormous black tower that loomed ominously over the far side of the island. Pharazon felt nearly like it was watching them, and that idea made him shudder.

"Oh yes, it's quite the place," Celice said. "Second largest city in Brightvale, after the castle town."

"Yeah, I remember reading something about that," Pharazon said, shifting in his seat. He couldn't draw his eyes away from the tower. "Since Brightvale Castle is landlocked, Market Town handles most of the imports and exports for Brightvale, right?"

"A relic from the days before sky-ships," Celice said, "but old habits die hard."

Scarlet and gold banners snapped in the sea breeze as the carriage rattled under the high stone arches at the near end of the bridge. Traffic on the bridge was lively, with other Uni carriages and Petpet-driven carts moving to and fro, but Pharazon barely noticed. His eyes kept being drawn back to the town's proverbial Elephante in the room, the massive fortress that cast its shadow over an entire quarter of rooftops like an ominous sundial.

Finally he turned back to his Lupe friend and said, "That's Black Keep, isn't it."

"Indeed it is," Celice said, casting her golden gaze up to look at it as well. "Over a thousand years old, they say."

"The histories in the university library said a little about the Darkest Knight," Pharazon said. They went under the town gate, and the tower was briefly obscured by the thick stone wall edging the island. The Draik felt a strange sense of relief, like he was hidden from something hunting him. "He was once the Black Knight, Meridell's greatest champion, but all of that glory went to his head. He tried to seize the throne, but was stopped and exiled for treason."

"Not very bright with their laws back then, were they?" Celice said. "Exile's the worst place to put an upstart like that."

"Exactly," Pharazon said. "The records say he came to Market Town and took control of the city, building Black Keep as his home and headquarters. He was a despot who taxed the people heavily, ruled them with cruelty and unfairness, and started to exert more and more autonomy. Finally he attempted to secede from Meridell and make Market Town its own kingdom."

"Ah, right—the entire Meridell region was unified in those days," Celice said as they emerged into the city and sunlight bathed the carriage again. "I tend to forget that, the way Hagan and Skarl go on sometimes, each one trying to outdo the other's kingdom."

"At that point," Pharazon said, "the townsfolk decided they'd had enough. They stormed Black Keep… and that was the end of the Black Knight." He sighed and looked back up at the tower. It seemed nearer than ever now, and it filled him with an uncomfortable foreboding.

"At least until eleven years ago," Celice said, "when the Darkest Faerie resurrected him. But good old Princess Roberta and Sir Tormund took care of him again. And the place has been abandoned ever since."

"Why didn't the townsfolk just tear the tower down in the first place?" Pharazon asked. "Then maybe the Darkest Faerie would never have been able to resurrect the Darkest Knight… not to mention the thing's kind of an eyesore."

"And waste tax money? Not worth it," Celice said. "That thing is enormous, and has probably got a fair bit of magic holding it together—it's in remarkable condition for something over a millennium old. Demolishing it just isn't worth the effort. I suppose the townsfolk think that if they wait long enough, it'll go away eventually."

"If only life worked like that," Pharazon said. "I think they're going to be waiting for a pretty long time."

The carriage took them down wide avenues lined with stucco-faced buildings. Pillars and arches were prominent in the architecture, every plaza had a fountain, and well-trimmed spruces added a splash of green to the lively town.

Pharazon watched the cityscape go by for a few minutes before he realised why it all seemed so familiar. "This looks like Altador," he said. "Or, what you'd get if you mixed Altador and Brightvale, I guess."

"Mm-hm," Celice said. "Did you read anything about the founding of Market Town?"

"Oh—that's right," Pharazon said. "The histories said it was founded by a son of Gordos the Collector."

"Who may be an ancestor of Their Majesties Hagan and Skarl, if the genealogies are correct," Celice said. She leaned in closer to the Draik and cupped a paw by her muzzle. "Although, between you and me, nobody's quite sure how much of those family trees are accurate and how much Hagan made up to make himself sound more important."

Pharazon snorted in amusement, sending a puff of faerie dust out of his nostrils. "Well… whether or not that's true," he said, "this son was evidently a travelling merchant who sailed the ocean, trading with other lands like Shenkuu and Lutari Island. On one voyage, he sailed clear across the sea and discovered Meridell. Realising how much Altador could benefit from commerce with the region and its abundant resources, and likewise how much the local clans could gain from Altador, he befriended the clan chieftains and convinced them to begin trading with his native land."

"Meridell was really a different place back then, wasn't it," Celice said. "I hear the magic users back then were powerful nature wizards." She smiled, as though pleased with the prominence of mages in any historical society.

"Yep," Pharazon said. "Anyway, his settlement on this very island became the trade ships' destination, and it was because of his hard work and genuine goodwill toward the Meridell clans that they began to unite and develop themselves into a kingdom. By the time Altador was sealed off from the rest of Neopia by that time bubble, Meridell was well on its way to becoming a major power on the eastern side of the continent."

The Draik felt himself becoming more at ease. Market Town reminded him of home, and all of these buildings did a fair job of blocking the view of the omnipresent Black Keep. Soon this assignment would be over, and he could enjoy the rest of his trip.

He was about to ask Celice if she thought there would be any good places to have lunch here, when the carriage stopped in front of a large, important-looking building. From the way it dominated the plaza, it was clear that this was from where the town was administrated.

"Thank you kindly," Celice said to the Uni driver as she swept out of the carriage, extending a paw to Pharazon to help him down. She deposited a handful of Neopoints into the driver's saddlebag and then looked up at their destination, pushing her spectacles up her snout. "The Market Town Traders' Guild. I'm sorry to say that these folks might be even more snobbish than Brightvalians, so do be on your guard, Pharazon."

"I'll just stay quiet and let you handle everything," he said.

She glanced down at him and patted his head. "Enjoy yourself, all right?" she said. "We'll go out to lunch after this."

Pharazon nodded, and followed her up the steps and through the thick wooden doors of the guild hall. The foyer inside was lavishly decorated with lush carpet, potted plants, and chandeliers whose flickering glow played across the high ceiling beams.

Pharazon fiddled with the fringe of his scarf while Celice spoke with the receptionist, who directed them to an office on the second floor. His claws sunk into the thick hallway rug - imported from Sakhmet if the patterning was any indication – as the Lupe sorceress knocked at the door, and for a moment they waited.

"Come in," said the occupant of the office.

Sitting at a desk, by a window that overlooked a courtyard, was a well-dressed blue Kau who looked like she always had plenty of butter at her supper table. She peered up at the two over her paperwork. "Can I help you?" she asked, one floppy ear flicking. Her eyes lingered on Pharazon, giving him the distinct impression that she was trying to judge how wealthy he was. He stopped fidgeting with his scarf, afraid that was making him look poor.

Celice put a paw to her chest and bowed. "Lady Celice Anfel of Brightvale University, and her assistant Pharazon," she said. "You are?"

"Guildswoman Griselda," the Kau said, extending a hoof which Celice shook. Pharazon wondered if he was supposed to shake it too, but Griselda seemed to be dismissing him. Which was all fine and well for him, as he would rather stay out of this as much as possible. "Am I to assume you are the Brightvale mages we requested to look into the Black Keep?"

"The very same," Celice said. "Well—Pharazon isn't from Brightvale, but he is a magic user and is accompanying me on this assignment."

 _I'm not a magic user,_ Pharazon thought with some ire. _Just because I know some magic doesn't mean I use it—or want to use it._

Griselda seemed satisfied, and she reached into a drawer under her desk and pulled out a set of worn iron keys, looking them over briefly before pocketing them. "The Guild extends its gratitude for your assistance in this matter, Lady Anfel," she said. With some effort, she hefted herself out of her chair and strode to the door. "I shall accompany you to Black Keep. Please, follow me."

Pharazon took to fidgeting with his scarf again as Griselda led them down the hall and back to the ground floor. "What sort of magic do you specialise in, Lady Anfel?" the Kau asked.

"Sorcery," said Celice, who was doing a better job of keeping up with her than Pharazon. "To be specific, I'm a pyromancer—that was my major at the University." She grinned. "Perhaps I should have been born a fire Lupe—but no, I think white suits me best. I like how fire purifies, wipes away corruption and gives a fresh start to things."

"They've sent me a pyromancer to investigate Black Keep?" Griselda asked.

"Well, I'm quite proficient in general spellcasting," Celice said, flicking a nonexistent speck of dust off of her cloak. "As is pretty much everyone trained at the Academy of Magic. So I'm certain I'll be able to help in this instance."

"And your associate?" Griselda asked.

There was a pause, and Pharazon realised he was supposed to answer. He glanced up at Celice, who gave him an exasperated look that silently told him she was not going to bail him out of this one. "I'm—just starting out," he managed to stammer. "I came along for—observational purposes."

"He'll be fine," Celice said with a smile. "He's a trustworthy fellow."

"If you say so," Griselda said. She led them out a side door, where a red Uni and carriage waited in a small entry tunnel, which led to the courtyard Pharazon had seen out the guildswoman's office window.

The Uni, who had been sitting on the cobblestones reading the Neopian Times, stood up when she saw the three approach, tucking the newspaper into her saddlebag. "Where to, milady?" she asked Griselda.

"Black Keep, if you please," the Kau said, pulling herself into the carriage. Celice and Pharazon followed, sitting next to each other across from her, and the vehicle began to move.

"Pardon me for asking, Guildswoman," Celice said as they joined city traffic, "but does Market Town have no resident mages? Why did you request help from the capital?"

"Oh, we have mages," Griselda said, "but we're not especially known for them like the capital is. Ours mostly deal in charms and hedge magic, as well as bookkeeping spells for businesses. Not to mention the various safety regulations surrounding the Keep. The other council members and I ran the numbers, and it actually involved less time, money, and red tape sending for a court magician."

"Fair enough," Celice said. "I'm glad to be of some assistance. The capital is lovely, but it's nice to stretch my legs a bit, too."

The carriage turned a corner and then, looming up in front of them, was Black Keep. It was so tall that Pharazon couldn't even see the top out the carriage window, and he got the impression that in the mornings, when the sea fog rolled in, it obscured the tower and made it look like it extended into the sky forever. Certainly the Darkest Knight had done a great job of making his fortress as imposing as possible.

The Keep was separated from the rest of the city by a high, thick wall, and there was a good bit of space between the wall and the tower proper, probably room for a lawn and a few outbuildings. As the three clambered out of the carriage, Pharazon looked across the street. Pedestrians strolled past a building with a colourful spice shop on the ground floor, seemingly oblivious to the piece of history that brooded nearly on top of them. Celice was right—people here preferred to pretend Black Keep didn't exist. The effect was unsettling, like Pharazon was standing on the boundary of two worlds, one of light and life and one of lonely darkness.

"Well, here we are," Griselda said, fishing the loop of keys out of her pocket and rifling through them. "As I mentioned in my correspondence, we've had a number of reports of strange lights in the tower at night. Sometimes people hear voices, although they can't make out what they're saying." With a satisfied grunt, she held up a key and moved to the gate. "There have always been rumours that Black Keep is haunted by the spirit of the Darkest Knight, but this is the first time there's been any substance to them."

Pharazon twisted his tail. "Of course it's haunted," he muttered under his breath. "Wouldn't want to make this too easy, would we?"

Celice shot him a pointed glare before looking back to Griselda. "There's magic running through this place, isn't there," the sorceress said.

The Kau nodded absently. The lock seemed to be giving her trouble, suggesting it hadn't been opened in some time. "Most likely," she said. "I'm a businesspet, I wouldn't know the first thing about magic, but our records do say the Darkest Knight employed quite a few sorcerers to build the Keep." Finally the key turned with a heavy thud. Griselda sighed and pushed open one of the immense doors, just wide enough for the three to slip through.

"My suspicions confirmed, then," Celice said, casting a glance over her shoulder to make sure Pharazon was following.

He took a deep breath and forced himself through the gap in the doors.


	4. Chapter 4

It really was like stepping into another world. The thick wall behind them muffled the sounds of the city, leaving the ruins eerily silent. Overgrown thickets of brush carpeted the ground, and gnarled old trees, their bare branches devoid of the slightest hint of spring, pushed their roots against cracked stone like they were attempting to escape.

And Celice was right—the whole place was drenched in magic, of a weird and dark flavour that set Pharazon even more on edge.

The ability to sense magic was not exclusive to mages. It was just like hearing or smell, and some people were better at it than others for various reasons. Pharazon's Grundo brother, who had spent most of his life in Dr. Sloth's galactic military where Neopian magic was nearly unheard of, was almost completely numb to it. Their owner and Zafara sister were more aware of it, as they tended to be the more intuitive ones in the family. And for a trained magic user such as Celice, learning how to recognize and tune in to mana frequencies had been a necessary part of her education.

But if magic was strong enough, it could be felt by anyone, as evidenced by Guildswoman Griselda. The Kau's ears flicked uneasily, one after the other, as she led Celice and Pharazon down an overgrown path that took them around roofless outbuildings and yawning gaps in the flagstone that led to who-knew-where. Pharazon knew she didn't like the feel of this place, either.

As they made their way over a hastily repaired stone bridge that stretched across an empty moat, Pharazon craned his neck up at the keep that awaited them on the other side. It soared above them, so high that he felt it was nearly a caricature of a more reasonably-sized tower. "Why is it so _tall?_ " he asked.

Griselda jumped at the sudden noise, although she tried to play it cool as she turned to him and smoothed down her skirts. "Because land is at a premium on this island, obviously," she said, eyeing him critically again. "When the Darkest Knight and his subordinates constructed this place, there was nowhere to go but up. So they built almost the entirety of his estate into one tower."

"Not to mention it's downright intimidating," Celice added, pushing her spectacles up her muzzle.

"Did they at least use it as a lighthouse?" Pharazon asked.

Griselda ignored him, huffing and puffing the rest of the way over the bridge. "Well, here we are," she panted, fitting another key into the lock of one of the tall doors of Black Keep. She had to put all of her weight on the key, but it eventually turned with a rusty thump. "It's all yours, Lady Anfel," she said, waving at them to enter while she fanned herself with her other hoof.

Celice clutched her cloak as she mounted the steps and put a paw on the door. "Will you be all right, Guildswoman?" she asked. "You didn't have to come all this way with us."

"City regulation," Griselda said, pocketing the keys again. "I appreciate your concern, but it would really have taken more time and effort to get you cleared to use these."

The Lupe smirked and said, "It's not Brightvale without bureaucracy."

"I should say not," Griselda said with an amused grimace. "I'll send a Uni carriage to wait for you out front. Good luck." She turned and headed back to the bridge.

The two friends watched her leave for a moment before Pharazon clambered up the steps to stand next to Celice. "I think I get now," he said, "why you're always dressed so nicely."

"Oh?" Celice asked.

"Because people take you more seriously," Pharazon said. His claws returned to his scarf, and he rubbed the scratchy wool fibers against his scales.

The sorceress sighed and patted his head, ruffling the wavy cyan tuft on the top of his head. "That's part of it, yes," she said. "But there's also the fact that spell-weavers don't generally like to craft magic robes that look like someone's been through the Rubbish Dump a few times." She smiled. "And when you look good, you feel good, and that helps your confidence immensely. But I hope you don't think you're shabby-looking—your faerie colouring is quite nice on you."

"Thanks," Pharazon said, inspecting one of his wings. If he looked good, then why didn't he feel good? He knew he was missing the confidence part of the equation, at any rate.

"At any rate," Celice said, "Let's see to this Black Keep business and then go out for lunch."

Pharazon stood aside and let her push the door open with a slow creak. Dust sifted from the doorway, and with a flick of her wrist Celice had a moderately-sized yellow-white flame at her fingertips. She thrust the fireball through the gap in the door, the light glinting off her spectacles as she looked around for a moment. Then, with a satisfied nod, she opened the door wider and ushered Pharazon in. "All clear," she said. "There's nothing on the ground floor, at least."

With a sigh, Pharazon trundled inside, still fingering his scarf and wondering how in the world he was ever going to be confident enough to earn Guildswoman Griselda's respect. Maybe it was simply out of his reach.

Celice's flame, which she had engineered to produce more light than heat, showed they stood in a vast entrance hall covered in dust and scattered debris from broken furniture. A few chunks of crumbled stone littered the floor, but for the most part the tower's structure was holding up quite well. High above them, a set of stained-glass windows let through weak shafts of multicoloured sunlight which barely penetrated down to where the two stood.

"I don't like this," Pharazon said.

"I know," Celice said, picking her way across the floor to a sweeping staircase. "There is an awful magic about this place, Pharazon—all tangled and sad. Perhaps it is haunted."

"We're not ghost hunters," the Draik said.

She turned to him and said, "We'll do what we can here. Even if the Market Townsfolk are in no danger—we can't leave the energy of a place feeling so _wrong_ like this."

"Can't we?" Pharazon asked.

Celice frowned and said, "Do you remember what it felt like around the Well of Souls?"

Pharazon winced. Clutching his arms, the Draik clenched his eyes shut, trying not to relive those awful memories of how the Werelupe Sage betrayed him. "The energy there was… bad," he choked. "Twisted. It—it made me sick just being there." Opening his eyes, his shoulders sagged. "That's sort of what it feels like here."

"Sorry," Celice said quietly. "I didn't mean to… make you relive that."

 _Then why did you bring it up,_ Pharazon thought to himself.

"But you understand why we must investigate," Celice said. "If we get into any trouble, I'll bail us out." She grinned. "It'll be a fun adventure."

"I don't like adventures," Pharazon said. "My last one nearly resulted in the destruction of Neopia."

"That was a fluke," Celice said. "No one's luck is so miserable that those sorts of things happen to them twice in a row."

And with that they began the climb. Black Keep really was an entire fortress built vertically, and Pharazon and Celice passed through level after level of storage areas, kitchens, servants' quarters, and even a chamber that held the aged remnants of musical instruments.

Pharazon had to concede that Black Keep had a sort of dark elegance about it. Its architects had not been blind to aesthetics—the walls were studded with breathtakingly ornate stained glass windows, although many of them now had cracked or missing panes, and the exquisite wrought-iron work everywhere complemented the soot-coloured stone the tower was built from. This place really would have been a sight back when the Darkest Knight was still alive, the Draik thought. But this was also a home for tyranny and corruption, he reminded himself. It would not get his sympathy.

As they ascended, they found nothing but abandoned ruin—and a growing sense of oppressiveness that Pharazon realised was coming from above them. It was different from the magic he had felt at the bottom. The best way he could find to describe it was that if mana was colour, the magic surrounding Black Keep was grey-blue, but now he was heading into a cloud of deep purple, almost black.

"Nowhere to go but up," Celice said as she opened the door at the top of yet another flight of stairs. Her long Lupe tongue hung from her slack jaw as she panted a bit, wiping her sweaty paw pads on her cloak. "Well, at least the residents of Black Keep were kept in good shape. But would it have killed them to have installed a few magic lifts?"

Pharazon could only nod wearily in agreement. His legs ached from so much climbing, and lunch was really starting to sound good. At least he could fly down, but then he'd have to wait for Celice to descend on foot, and he did not like the idea of being separated from her here.

"Maybe the spell for that hadn't been formulated yet—oh my," Celice suddenly said.

The tone in her voice made Pharazon's stomach plummet, and he froze where he stood, his wings and ears drooping. "What?" he asked.

The sorceress chuckled nervously and said, "Nothing, it's just—" She pushed the door open wider, allowing sunlight and a cool breeze through. On the other side, Pharazon could see cloudy sky. "It seems some of these passageways were built into observation terraces running along the outside of the tower…" Scanning the outside, she cleared her throat and moved to fix her hair. "Well—come along, then."

Pharazon found the terrace much more agreeable than the musty indoors of the fortress. Here the wind played with his wings, and below stretched Market Town, the Brightvale countryside, and the sea.

A smile worked its way up the Draik's snout and he moved closer to the stone balustrade, leaning between two Gallion gargoyles to enjoy the view. The Neopets in the streets looked like magically animated minatures, the ships and carriages like toys. Far in the distance were the Drackon Mountains, which separated Brightvale from Meridell with the Werelupe Woods in between, dyed a misty blue by so much atmosphere between them and him. If he squinted, Pharazon could have sworn that he saw a dark speck hovering over the mountains—Darigan Citadel.

"Ugh, this dratted tower has gotten on my last nerve," Celice said. She clung to the wall, slowly making her way down the balcony to the door on the other side. Her ears were low and her tail hung limp beneath her cloak. "I don't know how Bobbie did it, I swear…"

Pharazon moved to catch up with her. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"We're so far off the ground," she said. "How are you not unnerved by that?"

Pharazon extended his wings, which shed aquamarine sparks of magic. "I _can_ fly, you know," he said.

"Oh. Right," Celice said. "Do you happen to know your carrying capacity, by any chance?"

"With our weight combined," Pharazon said, "I'd drop like a stone."

"Brilliant," Celice said, her golden eyes trained on her destination. "Let's get this over with and get back to solid ground."

"Yes, let's," Pharazon said, although he wanted this over with for another reason entirely. Still, it was sort of nice to know that Celice wasn't totally perfect. It was strange to think that she had a fear that he didn't, though. That was a first.

All too soon they were back inside the Keep, although they ended up passing through several more terraces on their way up. It was clear that they had reached the levels of the fortress where the Darkest Knight likely housed and entertained his guests, as these rooms were richly decorated—or at least they had been before the Keep was sacked over a thousand years ago. Still, much of the original furnishings remained. It seemed even looters did not like Black Keep, preferring to leave it to moulder.

And all the while, the strange magic grew stronger, and Pharazon found himself disliking it more and more. But he held his tongue on the matter. He did not have to do anything, he reminded himself. They would see what the problem was, and if Celice could not handle it herself, they would report it to Master Seradar, and then Pharazon could enjoy a week in Brightvale with his best friend.

"How far up do you think we are now?" he asked Celice. They had come to a long, wide hallway with a set of large doors at the end—the sort that would make anyone believe they were approaching something important.

"No idea," she said curtly from ahead of him as she stalked toward the doors, flame in one hand. "I'm not the one who's kept an eye on the ground." The terraces had put a dent in her mood, and it was sort of a relief to Pharazon, who was tired of feeling beleaguered by her optimism.

"I think we're about halfway up," he said. "I remember from the outside, the terraces didn't start until about a third of the way up the tower."

"Ugh, only halfway?" Celice groaned as she reached for the door handle. "I should have asked Guildswoman Griselda where exactly those lights were—ouch!" She hissed and pulled away from the handle, shaking her paw.

Immediately Pharazon perked up and rushed to her. "Are you okay?" he asked. The feel of bad magic was stronger than ever here, and it made his stomach twist.

Celice inspected her paw with a furrowed brow and rubbed her finger pads together. "Someone put a ward on the door," she said.

"It felt like dark magic," Pharazon said, and the sorceress nodded. "Can you dispel it?"

"I could," she said, "but generally I find it easier to do this." Gently pushing the Draik back, Celice narrowed her eyes and shot her fireball at the doors.

For a moment the fire and darkness elements strained against each other, and then the ward snapped and the doors flew open. Now with a fireball in each hand, Celice strode forward. "Show yourselves!" she barked, ears high and fur bristling. "I've come on business of the kingdom of Brightvale!"

Frightened as he was, Pharazon could not stand by and let his friend get hurt, so he shuffled after her, into the largest room they'd encountered in the tower yet. It was an immense great hall with windows that stretched nearly the length of the soaring ceiling. Petpetpet-eaten rugs still carpeted the marble floor, and elaborate chandeliers hung lightless far above them. This, Pharazon thought, was where the Darkest Knight must have held his rebel court.

But it was not the sights that most attracted his attention—it was the magic. Here the air felt heavy with it, pushing him in on all sides. But this dark magic felt different than the chaotic earth magic Skoll had amassed two years ago. This energy felt organized. Or, more accurately, in a state of being organized, like someone had been pulling its strings and arranging it in a certain way.

As they stepped further inside, he saw why. In the centre of the floor, three figures staggered to their feet amidst a collection of small items: bones, crystals, bits of metal, and even tatters of parchment. It was from these that the magic emanated most strongly. A spell circle, Pharazon realised. Although he didn't use magic himself, he'd learned plenty about it in his studies. This wasn't about ghosts any more. He swallowed hard.

The figures rose to their full height, taller than Celice. Even in the gloom, Pharazon could see that they were willowy in build, with multiple sets of Korbat-like wings sagging from their backs. "Who disturbs us?" one of them rasped in a female voice.

"Lady Celice Anfel," Celice said, "sorceress of the Kingdom of Brightvale, acting under Master Magus Seradar. Who are you?"

In reply, the three figures laughed. Despite their seeming fatigue, it was a high-pitched, flippant noise that reminded Pharazon unpleasantly of teenagers gossiping about someone. "Hear that, girls?" another of the figures said. "This little hedge witch thinks she's a sorceress!" Another peal of laughter erupted.

"Hedge witch?!" Celice snarled. The orbs of fire in her hands flared as her upper lip twitched, exposing her fangs. "And I suppose a trio of minor dark faeries playing at spellcasting are ones to judge my power?"

They were indeed dark faeries, Pharazon could see, although they looked and sounded as if they'd been sleeping for ages and had just awoken. Their movements were slow and tired, and their black dresses were old and worn. The faeries themselves even seemed a little faint, nearly translucent, as if they were struggling to cling to this plane of existence. He wanted to ask Celice about it, but it seemed a generally good idea to keep quiet at this point.

One of them put her hands on her hips and asked, "Wait—do you really not recognize us?"

"Am I supposed to?" Celice asked.

"Ugh," another one said, throwing up her hands. "And after all that lovely trouble we put Meridell through? I thought Skarl would have put up wanted posters, but I guess he's too stupid for that."

"The Dark Faerie Sisters," Pharazon breathed.

Celice glanced down at him. "What?" she asked.

"Your little lackey's right," said the third faerie, attempting to look nonchalant by inspecting her nails. Like the others, though, her wings still drooped and her voice was hoarse. "It's nice to know someone actually remembers our takeover of Meridell for the Darkest Faerie."

"Roberta banished you!" Celice growled.

The three faeries bristled at the princess's name. One smiled wickedly and said, "Which is why she'll be first to get a taste of our power once we've recovered. They don't call me Spite for nothing, you know."

"Meridell will be ours again," one of her sisters said. "And oh, the havoc we will wreak."

"Perhaps you'll wreak havoc, Malice," the third said. "I'm looking forward more to becoming a queen to rival Fyora! I'll have that purple-haired pansy kneeling at my feet!"

"I'll leave that up to you, Vanity," Malice said, rubbing her hands together. "I'm having fun just thinking of ways to make everyone's lives as miserable as possible."

"Then why aren't you in Meridell?" Celice asked, edging toward them, flames still extended. "Or is your sense of direction just that poor?"

The three faeries paused their planning to glower at her. "That brat Lisha worked with Illusen to set up wards around the whole kingdom," Spite said. "Thanks to your idiotic Princess Roberta, we don't yet have the power to breach the barrier."

"But we figured, why wait," Vanity added with a smirk. She gestured to the spell-circle. "We'll just use the old-fashioned way to get to Meridell—by overthrowing neighboring lands first."

Celice suddenly clamped a paw on Pharazon's shoulder. "Pharazon, go," she said. "Fly—get help—get Master Seradar."

"I can't leave you—" he started to say.

Malice flicked a hand at the two, and thick tendrils of shadow rose from the floor and globbed onto them, holding them fast. Celice yelped, and her fireballs fizzled and died. The only light now came from the tall windows, and it somehow did not reach the centre of the room.

Pharazon tried to move, but the darkness surrounding him felt like putty. Even worse was the way the magic crowded his senses, rendering his hearing and even his vision dim. His thoughts suddenly became difficult to grasp, and overall he felt like he was on the verge of passing out but somehow couldn't. It was some of the worst discomfort he thought he'd ever experienced—except for when he'd been in the Well of Souls. Strange whispers began to tease at the edges of his hearing, although he couldn't pick out any words.

The faerie's body strained from a magical effort that was evidently a bit much for her in her current state, and her sisters extended their hands as well, lending her their power. Malice rubbed a hand over her face, but shot a grateful glance at her sisters before sneering down at the two Neopets. "Oh, I don't think so," she said, wagging her finger at them. "We can't have word of this spreading, not yet. The spell will take a little more time to complete."

Celice bared her fangs. "What… are… you going to do," she wheezed, evidently having the same reaction to the magic as Pharazon.

"Wow, you really are dumb if you haven't figured it out by now," Vanity said. She tossed her hair. "We're resurrecting the Darkest Knight. Again."

Pharazon's eyes widened. "No—" he gasped.

"Working with him," Spite said, "we'll easily have the power we need to take over Brightvale, and from there to Meridell. And from there—well, why not the whole world?" She giggled. "I can't wait to see the look on Roberta's face when I crush her stupid kingdom!"

Malice smiled approvingly at her, then looked back at Celice and Pharazon and said, "And lucky you, getting to watch us put the finishing touches on this spell in two nights, during the new moon. You know what's even better? You're both magic users!" Her smile grew downright terrifying. "That means we can pull your power from you to assist us."

"No!" Pharazon shouted, struggling in vain against the shadows. It was his worst nightmare come true. Skoll had attempted to use him for the same thing two years ago. Pharazon had told himself it would never happen again. And now, unless he did something, not only would it happen to him, but to Celice as well.

The sorceress growled and said, "You think I'll just let that happen?" She gestured with her chin, and the air in front of her face sparked and began to swirl into a portal.

"Hey!" Vanity said. "That's cheating!" She clenched her fist and the shadows tightened around Celice, who let out a pained whine and slumped over. The magic in front of her disappeared, and Vanity folded her arms smugly. "Let's see the hedge witch try anything now."

They had to get out. Pharazon didn't care how. Panic overran him, shooting adrenaline through his system. In his desperation, he could think of only one thing to try.

He took a deep breath and willed forth his magic.

It was not like the times he practised with Skoll. This time, there was no technique to it—Pharazon just shoved all of his power to the forefront of his being, hoping it would somehow help them. The energy was chaotic, fighting against the shadows, zinging through his body painfully. Summoned without a purpose, it was careening through existence trying to do everything at once.

"What are you doing?!" Celice barked, suddenly alert again. Her eyes were wide with horror as she stared at him.

Even the Dark Faerie Sisters looked astonished—and concerned. They moved to the spell-circle, hovering over it protectively.

Pharazon tried to say "I think I'm saving us," but the words found no voice. All he knew was that he had to get them out of there.

So that was what he concentrated on.

All of a sudden it was like the universe – maybe even several universes – exploded around him. He could see in dimensions he didn't even know existed, but everything was flashing before his eyes like flipping through the pages of a book. Places, he realised. He was looking at places, most of which he'd never seen before. And they were all tugging at him, trying to pull him in.

The energy was too much. He had to make a decision or the magic would tear him apart. Closing his eyes, Pharazon tried as hard as possible to focus on Brightvale Castle, although his mind's-eye image was fogged and shifting, influenced too much by all of the magical input he was receiving.

The magic snapped, the world went white, and that was the last thing Pharazon remembered.


	5. Chapter 5

Pharazon opened his eyes to cold daylight. Above him stretched tangled, budding tree branches, and past them a cloudy sky. He had no idea what he was doing lying on a muddy forest floor. Where was he? Not home—these were not the cypresses and olive trees of his Altador, but oaks and birches of a more temperate climate.

Like the Meridell region.

Everything came back to him like a sock in the gut and he sat up from the shock, earning himself a head rush. Celice lay nearby – breathing, thank goodness – sprawled awkwardly across dead leaves, her hair and clothes in disarray.

But Pharazon had gotten them away from the Dark Faerie Sisters. Not that it had come without a price. As he picked himself up, he felt woozy and weak, like he'd gone days without sleeping or eating. His body seemed hollow, and he knew he'd exhausted his magical reservoirs.

"Celice—" he croaked, making his way over to the Lupe. Crouching down, he gently shook her shoulder.

She stirred with a whine, one ear flicking. Snapping her jaws groggily, she rolled over, opened her eyes to look at him—and growled. "You blooming idiot!" she barked, sitting up to seize him by the shoulders and shake him. "What were you thinking?! You could have teleported us to the middle of the ocean, or halfway down to Neopia's core!"

"B-but I saved us—" Pharazon stammered, eyes wide.

"You could have killed us both by attempting a spell of that magnitude untrained!" she snarled, pushing him away to wobble to her feet. "Do you even know where we are right now, you witless fool?!"

Pharazon's heart dropped as he said, "I—I thought maybe you could tell me—"

"Oh, silly me," Celice said, pacing around him with ears held high like a Gruslen cornering her prey. "I forgot that I'm supposed to do everything for you!" The strands of hair falling loose from her messy bun just made her look all the more dangerous. "That's why you're friends with me, right?!"

"I didn't mean it like that," Pharazon said, backing against the trunk of a tree.

She stopped and glared at him. "You don't know what you mean!" she said. "You're not committed to anything, not even your own feelings! And when you do somehow manage to make a decision—it's the worst one possible!" Letting out a frustrated groan, she spun around and clutched her head in her paws. "If you had actually been practising your magic for the past two years, we wouldn't be in this situation!"

"I'm sorry—" Pharazon said.

Celice walked away from him, waving her arms like a raving lunatic. "You think you can just apologise after the fact every time you ruin everything?!" she said. "Like that absolves you of all responsibility?! Because of you, we're lost out in the middle of nowhere, and the Dark Faerie Sisters are going to resurrect the Darkest Knight in two days and nobody else knows about it—"

Her voice quavered, and with a whimper, she sat on the ground and said, "And I've a horrible headache—" She wrapped her arms around her knees, buried her snout in her legs, and began to sob.

For a moment Pharazon watched her, fidgeting with his scarf and generally feeling awful about life. He had never seen her this angry, least of all at himself. But she was right. He was so intent on not being intent about anything that it put a strain on everyone else. And because he had pushed away cultivating his magical talents, it made him useless in times when they were desperately needed.

No, worse than useless. It made him a liability. He and Celice could have suffered a much worse fate from his panicked attempt to teleport. As it was, being out in the depths of the forest when they were the only ones who knew that malicious faeries were plotting to take over at least several kingdoms was not much of a consolation prize.

This had to stop, he decided. For everyone's sakes.

But what to do from here? Pharazon scanned the thick woodlands around them, but could see no sign of civilisation, not so much as a footpath. His gaze wandered back to the irate Lupe sorceress, and the thought occurred to him that he could leave her. He could fly, so he could get places much sooner by himself than with a landbound Neopet in tow. And, well, she hadn't exactly been nice to him, even if she was right. He didn't particularly feel like being nice to her.

Pharazon grimaced. He couldn't do that. If he was going to profess to be her friend, he was going to need to start acting like it. Friendship wasn't just about palling around museums and being a studious little sidekick. He needed to be there to help her, just as she kept trying to help him. Even when it was hard.

Especially when it was hard.

With a sigh, he trudged over to her and put his arms around her shoulders. "I'm sorry," he said. "I mean it this time. I'm really, really sorry. I will never do anything that dumb again."

Celice sniffed, removing her spectacles to dab at her eyes with her sleeve. "I forgive you," she said. "Thanks for apologising. I'm sorry I was so cross with you… everything came at me so quickly… But that's no excuse for taking it out on you."

Pharazon considered telling her to keep her temper in control, but thought better of it. She already felt bad. "I'm sorry I made you that angry," he said. "I shouldn't have been so stubborn, all those times you told me to practise my magic."

"I'm just worried about you," Celice said. "In all the years I've known you, you've shown such great potential—but never wanted to use it. The incident with Skoll just made it worse."

The Draik pulled away and rubbed one arm, looking at his toes. "I'm afraid," he said. "With Skoll, I tried, and I just ended up putting everyone in danger. It's—it's easier not to do anything than to have that kind of responsibility."

"Is it really easier in the end?" Celice asked quietly. "Your owner didn't hatch you so you could be an inert lump. Are you truly happy living like this?"

Pharazon thought for a moment. "No," he said. "I'm… comfortable, to some degree. But I wouldn't say I'm happy. Rather, I'm just… anxious all the time. Afraid of what might happen."

"What do you want out of your life, Pharazon?" Celice asked. "I mean, what do you really want out of it? Be honest with me and with yourself."

Pharazon closed his eyes. When he peeled away all the expectations of others, the pressures of various sides, how life experiences had conditioned him through fear and doubt, what were his true desires? Finally he opened his eyes and looked back at Celice. "I want to be there for my family," he said, "and whoever else might need me."

Smiling, she reached over and squeezed his hand. "Then let's start with that," she said. "I think right now, Brightvale needs us more than anything else. Which means we won't just sit around and wait for those faeries to bring back the Darkest Knight, will we?"

"Nope," Pharazon said with a nervous grin. He pulled on her paw to help her up. "We need to tell somebody. Master Seradar—or maybe even Fyora."

"My thoughts exactly," Celice said, clinging to him as she got to her feet. She staggered and put a paw to her forehead, her eyes bulging like she was going to be ill, but ignored it. Extending a finger, she flicked her wrist to the air.

Nothing happened.

She frowned and stepped back before repeating the motion, again to no effect. Frantically, she began waving her arms, but it only resulted in her getting dizzy and having to lean against a tree to steady herself. "No… augh, no!" she said. "Those barbaric banshees! They've scrambled my magic!"

"What?!" Pharazon asked. "Are you going to be okay?"

Celice pounded a fist on the rough bark of the tree trunk and said, "The energy fields usually re-stabilise within a few days, a week tops… drat." Whimpering, she wrapped an arm around her head. "That explains this awful migraine. I haven't had one this bad since that time I drank twelve crates of Achyfi during finals…"

"I… could I try a contacting portal?" Pharazon asked. "You could tell me exactly what to do, and I won't mess it up this time, I promise."

She peeked out at him from beneath her sleeve and asked, "How do you feel?"

"Uhm…" Pharazon paused. "Like the magical equivalent of being run over by a carriage." He took a deep breath and tried to blow a puff of magic – his faerie colouring's version of the fire breathed by other Draiks - but only a few stray, tired sparks swirled past his lips before fading.

"As I thought," Celice sighed. "Improper casting will do that to you. You're out of commission for the time being as well."

"I wish I knew where we were," Pharazon said. "I remember trying to think of Brightvale when I teleported us… but I don't think I got it accurately enough."

"Well, judging from the foliage we seem to at least be in the same region," Celice said, "so good job with that." She glanced up at the sky. "Can you fly up a bit and try to get our bearings?"

"Sure thing," Pharazon said. He found a gap in the forest canopy, and called on what little physical strength he had left to flap his wings and boost himself into the air.

The trees stretched before him, as far as he could see in all directions. They undulated with the gentle rise and fall of the land, and off in the distance were lofty peaks whose tops were obscured by the clouds, but Pharazon didn't know if they were the Drackon Mountains.

If it was night and the sky clear, he would have been able to tell directions from the stars, but now even the hidden sun was no help. He truly had no idea where they were. The only other object of interest was a thin line of white smoke, twisting up to the sky nearly at the edge of his vision, and he made a mental note of the direction in which it lay.

He only had a few seconds to observe before fatigue won out and he lowered himself back to the ground to return to Celice.

"See anything?" the sorceress asked him. She was inspecting her cloak, scowling at all the mud and muck that had gotten on her clothes.

"Forest everywhere," Pharazon panted. "No Brightvale." He paused. "But I did see smoke near the horizon. Probably from a chimney."

"Then that's our best bet," Celice said. "If nothing else, it could be the cottage of a woodspet who can point us to a road." She tugged her cloak back around her shoulders. "Lead the way—oof, it's getting cold."

As they marched through the woods at as quick a pace as they could muster, slaking their thirst at every stream they came across, Pharazon noticed it was indeed getting colder, and darker. It had to have been afternoon now. He remembered it being lunchtime when he and Celice discovered the Dark Faerie Sisters, and the after-effects of his teleportation seemed to have knocked them out for a few hours, so above the clouds the sun was sinking lower. After today, they would only have two days to stop the faeries before the summoning was completed.

And another curious thing occupied his thoughts. He realised it had ever since he'd woken up after the teleportation. He couldn't seem to get Black Keep off his mind. It felt like the fortress was almost calling out to him, urging him to return.

While he followed Celice, Pharazon kept turning these impressions over and over in his head. They did not give him the same dread and anxiety he felt around the Dark Faerie Sisters. Rather, it felt like someone was calling for him to help, that he had unfinished business at Black Keep. Pharazon considered telling Celice, but it was not like either of them could do anything about it at this point. Their first priority had to be to reach civilisation, and then tell someone about the danger brewing in Market Town.

"I doubt we'll reach the source of that smoke tonight," Celice said as they splashed through an ice-cold stream, "and I don't fancy not getting any sleep. I'm about ready to lay down and pass out as it is, and despite the time constraints, we're no use to anyone if we collapse from exhaustion trying to get to Brightvale. Let's find a place to camp. Would you happen to know anything about foraging?"

"Yes, actually," Pharazon said. "Hyren's taught my family a lot about wilderness survival. I might be able to find some edible roots this time of year."

"Better than nothing," Celice said.

"Do you think this glade up ahead looks okay?" Pharazon asked, waving at her to follow him past a pair of ancient yews.

"It's no Presidential Palace, but it'll do," Celice said, patting his head as she strode past him to inspect the small clearing. "Let's make a space for a fire."

They prepared their campsite as best as they could, sweeping detritus from the ground and collecting fallen branches for firewood. Pharazon helped Celice arrange the wood for efficient burning, and then the Lupe snapped her fingers over it a few times before remembering her magic was out.

"Well, so much for a fire," she muttered, pulling her cloak around her. "It's going to be a long night."

"We could probably make a fire the other way," Pharazon said, grabbing for a few twigs. "You know, with the laws of physics."

"Oh. Right," Celice said. "Do you know how to do that?"

Pharazon sat down and began to rub the twigs together the way his brother had taught him. "This might take a while," he said.

"I hate doing things without magic," Celice grumbled, curling up. "So much more time and effort." She sneezed. "Sorry—I'm just a grumpy fussbudget."

"It's okay," the Draik said, watching the twigs for signs of heating. "You get some rest."

It took a good ten minutes, and Pharazon's arms felt like noodles by the time he was done, but he'd finally managed to get the twigs to smoulder, and from there ignited some kindling. With careful tending, he gradually got a blaze going, much to his relief.

As he readjusted his scarf and eased himself onto the ground, Pharazon looked up at the sky and realised how much darker it had gotten already. Whoots had begun to call to each other, and Petpetpets chirped with the onset of evening. And he still felt the call of Black Keep.

"Do you think we'll reach that smoke tomorrow?" the Draik asked Celice, folding his claws on his stomach.

"Mm-hm," she murmured, already half-asleep.

"I'm really sorry about everything that happened today," Pharazon said. "There were so many things I could've done better—" The sudden snapping of branches cut him off. Holding his breath, he sat up and listened to the crunch of heavy footfalls on the forest floor.

Celice had noticed the sounds as well, and she was now awake and alert, instinctively holding out her paws even though no flames formed there.

The noise grew closer, accompanied by a guttural clicking. The two friends exchanged a glance and rose slowly to their feet, backing toward the campfire.

From the gloom, a pair of red eyes caught the light. "Who's there?" Celice asked, putting a paw on Pharazon's shoulder.

A hiss sounded in the darkness. Slinking slowly into the circle of firelight came a Darigan Eyrie. He walked on all fours, wearing tattered black pants, and despite his large frame, he was emaciated. His purple fur and feathers were wet and matted with mud, and his long grey hair hung limply about his soot-coloured mane. Wings and tail low, he hovered near the trees, watching Celice and Pharazon warily.

Pharazon thought that Eyrie didn't seem like he wanted to attack them. The look in his crimson eyes was pleading and hungry.

"I think he's cold," Pharazon said.

"What?" Celice asked.

"Maybe he's lost like us," Pharazon said before turning back to the Eyrie. "What's your name?"

In reply the Eyrie hissed again, tensing as his fur bristled and feathers fluffed.

"You can share our fire," Pharazon said. "There's plenty of room here for you." Tugging on Celice's sleeve, he led the Lupe to the opposite side of the fire where they both sat down.

"Are you sure this is wise?" Celice asked, watching the Eyrie gingerly sniff around the campsite. "He doesn't quite look like he's got his wits about him."

"I know," Pharazon said, "but if we don't help him, maybe nobody will." He shifted his weight, curling his tail around himself. "My owner always says that a little kindness goes a long way. I never really thought about it much until now… but I think she was referring to situations like this. It's… why she befriended the Werelupe King."

Something that Pharazon had fought her on, he remembered. But he wanted to change, and that meant taking her lessons to heart. If she believed in compassion, then so would he.

The Eyrie seemed to find conditions satisfactory, and he lowered himself to the ground in front of the fire, stretching out his wings to dry them and glancing between the woods and his hosts. He was so thin that his ribs showed through his fur, and they heaved up and down with each breath. Slowly, his eyes drooped closed.

"I think we're doing the right thing," Celice said. "Maybe if we can get him to talk to us, we can determine where he's from. It seems like he might have accidentally gotten separated from the Citadel or something." She yawned. "Tomorrow, though."

"Yeah… we've had enough excitement for one day," Pharazon said, moving back to his own space. "Good night, Celice."

"Night, Pharazon," the Lupe said as she curled up, tail tucked between her legs to conserve warmth.

Pharazon was about to lie down himself, but something kept him looking at their guest. The Eyrie seemed as though no one had ever done him a good deed, and as he buried his beak further into his folded arms, it was evident that even the fire could not fully warm him.

Getting up again, the Draik made his way over to the Eyrie, unwound the scarf from his own neck, and moved to put it on their visitor.

As soon as the wool touched his mane the Eyrie's eyes snapped open, and he glared at Pharazon, making him freeze.

"It's okay," Pharazon said. "I'm just—trying to get you a little warmer. It's harmless. See?"

He held out the scarf and the Eyrie inspected it, rubbing the cloth between his paw pads and taking a few test nips with his black beak. Finally he dropped it and looked back at Pharazon.

The Draik wrapped it round him, although due to their size difference it could only go round the Eyrie's neck once. "I know it's not much," Pharazon said, "but it's better than nothing. You can keep it," he added, stepping back. "I think you need it more than I do."

A breath caught in the Eyrie's throat and he arched his neck, appraising his new accessory. "Thhhaahnkh youh," he rumbled.

Pharazon's ears perked. The sound was gravelly and coarse, but those were definitely words, although it sounded as though the Eyrie had not spoken in a long while. He grinned and said, "You're welcome. What's your name? I'm Pharazon and that's my friend Celice."

"Nnnaaame…" the Eyrie said. His brow furrowed and he clicked his tongue. "I… donnn't knowh."

Pharazon put his hands on his knees. Who wouldn't know their own name? "Well, that's all right," he said. "Do you remember where you're from? Darigan Citadel, maybe?"

"Darr… eeh… gannn…" the Eyrie said as he squinted, thinking hard. "Cih-tah-delll…" He shut his eyes tight and shuddered, shaking his head. "I donnn't knowh."

"Don't worry about it," Pharazon said, standing up again. "We're on our way to Brightvale, and you're welcome to come with us. Maybe something will jog your memory." It was probably best to not mention the Dark Faerie Sisters at this point, he thought.

"Thhankh youh," the Eyrie said again.

Pharazon nodded and said, "Well… good night, then." His visitor said nothing in return, just watched him with those piercing eyes. They followed him as he returned to his sleeping spot, and when Pharazon curled up, the Eyrie was still watching him, but the Draik couldn't be uneasy about it. Despite the unusual circumstances, he felt better about life than he had in a long while. Like he was becoming more of who he really wanted to be.


	6. Chapter 6

Pharazon didn't know how long he had slept, but it was still night when he found himself suddenly awake. The fire still crackled and he was warm enough—what had roused him was a deep and incoherent mumbling.

He looked to Celice and found the Lupe sorceress awake as well, propped up on one elbow. She shot him a concerned glance and then returned to watching their Eyrie companion.

The purple creature tossed and turned on the ground, his great claws flexing and tail twitching. His eyes were closed, and he moved with the clumsiness of someone sleepwalking. Occasionally his face clenched in discomfort, followed by a shuddering moan of misery.

"I told you he was mad," Celice said.

"I know—" Pharazon started to say, but then the Eyrie's sounds began to form into words.

"March… on Meridell…" he slurred, seeming to have a better mastery of speech than when Pharazon had spoken with him earlier. "Everything must burn… Skarl will pay…" Letting out a squawk, he flopped onto his back, holding up his arms to shield himself from invisible enemies. "No… mistake… I can't…" He hissed. "Meridell has come—where is my Eyrie Guard—bar the gates—the Citadel is falling, falling…"

"He must have fought in the Kass War," Pharazon said. "I guess that would explain his condition, if he's been out here this entire time. That was over ten years ago."

"How can you be sure it's the Kass War?" Celice asked, her eyes still on the nightmare-wracked Eyrie.

"The Eyrie Guard contingent wasn't formed until Lord Kass took power," Pharazon said.

Suddenly the Darigan Eyrie snarled, "Goodbye, Jeran!" He took a deep breath and his wings flared, the tips of his feathers dragging through the dirt. "Lord Darigan—! You're supposed to be dead! I—I won't let you take the Citadel back from me! It's mine!" Turning over, he gouged his claws into the ground, leaving deep furrows. "I've done more for it than you ever have!"

Pharazon's heart skipped a beat and he felt all the blood drain from his face.

"Great day in the morning," Celice said, her jaw slack. "That _is_ Lord Kass."

The Draik backpedaled closer to her as the fallen despot continued to rant to a nonpresent Lord Darigan. "That's impossible," Pharazon breathed. "The Three destroyed him."

"Did they, though?" Celice asked as she put on her spectacles to observe the Eyrie better. "We thought they did the same thing to Darigan, remember? When someone has simply gone missing after an enormous battle, it's too easy to make assumptions."

"Yeah," Pharazon said, swallowing hard. "I guess if Darigan survived as that bat-thing, Kass could have shared the same fate."

"No… no!" Kass cried out, curling into a tight ball. "Don't take me, please! This defeat—not my fault! I can do better, just don't—agh!" He let out a piercing call and then collapsed in a shuddering heap, wings drawn close around himself protectively.

Pharazon watched in horror, not at the Eyrie himself but at what he must have been reliving. "I wonder if he has nightmares like this every night," he said.

"So this is the true punishment of the Three," Celice said quietly. "They rob their victims of their power, and the sheer anguish drives them mad."

Kass seemed to have quieted down, having passed back into the relief of oblivion, but Pharazon couldn't keep his eyes off of the former warlord. Kass had understood him in their conversation earlier, Pharazon was sure of it. Despite all the thrashing, Pharazon's scarf stayed wrapped around the Eyrie's messy mane like the arms of a friend trying to comfort him. In all of the darkness that plagued Kass's life, there existed a thread of light for him to cling to.

"We have to help him," Pharazon said.

"Are you quite sure that's safe?" Celice asked.

"Well, no," Pharazon said. "But weren't you the one telling me that if you stay safe, you never make a difference?"

"Something along those lines," Celice said. "Still—are you sure anything can be done for him?"

"There's a lot I'm not sure about," Pharazon said. "But that's where hope comes in, right? Darigan recovered because that peasant Usul took care of him. What if we did the same for Kass?"

Celice looked at him for a long while. Finally she said, "Pharazon, you're really a more remarkable Neopet than you often let yourself be. I hope I see this side of you more often."

"I'm tired of messing things up all the time," Pharazon said. He yawned and glanced at the sky. It was pitch black, dawn still far away. "Although…" He grinned self-consciously. "If I hadn't attempted to teleport, we never would have met Kass, would we? Hyren has a saying: 'Whenever something stupid and awful happens, something good comes out of it in the end.'"

Celice chuckled and mussed the tuft on Pharazon's head. "It's too early in the morning for soul-searching reflection," she said. "But I do think your brother's on to something. Things have a way of working out if we just keep trying our hardest—even the things that seem like mistakes at the time."

"I want to believe in that," Pharazon said. "Not just for us, but for Kass too." He watched the Eyrie, now fast asleep and breathing steadily again. It was still surreal to think that they were in the presence of a former dictator. But if the Werelupe King could get a second chance, and Celice could get a second chance, and Pharazon himself could get a second chance, then so could Kass.

"So what do you propose we do to help him, then?" Celice asked. "I hope you haven't forgotten about the whole Brightvale-in-grave-danger thing. That's sort of important."

"Let's take him with us for now," Pharazon said. "He needs food and a warm place to sleep—and friends. I was thinking of bringing him along to Brightvale to warn Master Seradar about the Dark Faerie Sisters, and then escorting him back to Darigan Citadel."

"They'll arrest him as soon as they know who he is," Celice said. "You'll be putting him right into the hands of those he ruled so unjustly."

"I know," Pharazon said, gripping his tail. "But I can't help but feel like Lord Darigan will be merciful to him. He's been through the same thing, after all."

For a long moment they both watched the swirling sparks from the fire and listened to the chirps of nocturnal Petpetpets. Finally Celice said, "I wouldn't feel right abandoning him after this, anyhow. I suppose we'll see in the morning if he wants to tag along."

Pharazon stood up and stretched, trudging back to his own sleeping spot. "I hope so," he said. "Even knowing everything he did… I can't stand seeing him like this." Was this what forgiveness felt like? Would he feel the same way if it was a Werelupe in this situation instead of Lord Kass? If it was Skoll?

Yes, the Draik decided as he lay down and tucked his wings close. He was tired of being bitter and fearful. None of that helped. Skoll had been driven to destruction by his hunger for vengeance. But kindness—there was a real power in kindness.

"Good night again," Celice said with a yawn. "Feel free to let me sleep in."

"Night," Pharazon said. He took another glance at Kass before letting his eyelids drift shut. He still felt safe around the beleaguered Eyrie—either that, or he was just too tired to care at this point.

Or it was that gut feeling that everything would work out as long as he kept trying.

* * *

A Beekadoodle chirped somewhere nearby, snapping Pharazon out of the dream he was having about roaming the hills of Altador. He blinked his eyes open, and sunlight streamed into them as he rubbed away the sleep. The clouds were higher and patchier now, the fire had eroded into a pile of embers—and Kass was gone.

Pharazon's heart sank as he inspected the space where the Eyrie had lain, finding nothing but a few scattered purple feathers. Perhaps it was a bit too grand of a dream to think that he and Celice could have rehabilitated the former villain. The sorceress was still dozing, and Pharazon remembered she had told him to let her sleep in.

That left Pharazon with very little to do. For a few minutes he sat and tried to enjoy nature, and the fact that the rains seemed to be on their way out, but he was too antsy. Kass aside, they had to keep heading toward Brightvale. The Draik wanted Celice to get as much rest as she needed, but the Lupe was notorious for sleeping late. And Pharazon still could not get Black Keep's plaintive cries out of his head. The ancient fortress would not let him stay still for long.

Finally Pharazon couldn't take it any longer. "Celice," he said, trudging over to her to nudge her shoulder. "C'mon, wake up, please. I'm sorry, but I think we need to get moving."

"Hurmph… murrh…" The Lupe let out a few groggy whines and snapped her jaws. "I'm up, I'm up…" She forced her eyes open and reached for her spectacles. "What time is it?"

Pharazon shrugged, thinking to himself that even mages should at least carry pocket watches in the case of magic-scrambling hexes. "It's morning. I'm assuming," he said.

Celice glanced around and groaned. "Oh. Right," she said. Sitting up and taking the pins out of her hair, she began to sweep it back into a bun. "I forgot where we were—I was sort of hoping it was all a bad dream and I was back in my flat at the University."

"Tell me about it," Pharazon said, holding his arms. The air still held a chill and he began to wonder if maybe giving Lord Kass his scarf wasn't such a good idea. No, Kass needed it more. He needed to know someone out there cared.

As if summoned simply by being on Pharazon's mind, the undergrowth rustled and out stepped the Darigan Eyrie. Now walking only on his hind legs, he clutched a few wild carrots in one front paw, and some freshly-caught game in the other.

Celice leaped to her feet and put a hand on Pharazon's shoulder. "Ah—hello, you're back," she stammered.

He glanced at her and then down at the faerie Draik. "I know it's not much," Kass said as he approached the two, "but it should make a passable breakfast." Kneeling down, he presented the food to Pharazon.

An enormous grin worked its way up Pharazon's snout. "I—thank you," he said. "You didn't have to do this for us."

"And you didn't have to share your fire with me," the Eyrie said. His voice was still rough with disuse, but speech seemed to be returning to him quickly now. He stood again and tugged at Pharazon's scarf, still around his neck. "I should return this."

"No," Pharazon said. "It's a gift from me to you. I couldn't possibly ask for it back."

Celice's paw didn't leave his shoulder. "Who are you?" she asked Kass, looking up at him calmly but sternly.

He grimaced and put a paw to his face. "I… I can't remember," he said. "All I seem to know is living in these woods like a wild beast." He paused. "I… think I recall a few things before then… shouting and swords and black stone… voices in my head—" His feathers ruffled and he hunched his back, looking sick.

"Don't worry about it," Pharazon said. "Let's just enjoy our breakfast. The three of us," he added, in case Kass didn't get the hint.

The Eyrie looked down at him with a faint smile and said, "I would like that."

Using Celice's cloak, Pharazon cleaned most of the dirt off of the carrots, while the Lupe and the Eyrie set to the more squeamish task of dressing the game and roasting it in the last vestiges of the fire. While everyone's portions were meagre, Pharazon was just glad to have something in his belly.

"Where are you going?" Kass asked them as they ate. "You're not exactly equipped for camping."

"Teleportation spell gone awry," Celice said. "We're trying to make our way back to civilisation." She and Pharazon exchanged a glance, and Pharazon figured it might not be wise to tell Kass everything just yet.

"There's an inn on the road a few miles from here," the Eyrie grunted, gulping down a hunk of meat.

"That must be the smoke I saw yesterday," Pharazon said. "Do you know how to get there?"

"Yes. I've stolen from their stores before," Kass said. "I don't know why, but I feel like I haven't been fully aware of myself for a long time."

"You're just now coming back," Celice said.

His crimson eyes flicked to her and he tilted his head. "Coming back from what?" he asked.

"A long journey," the sorceress replied. "Don't push yourself."

"Can you help us get to the inn?" Pharazon asked, crunching through a carrot. "We've never been in these parts before."

"Of course," Kass said. "We'll go as soon as you finish eating."

"Selective amnesia, must be," Celice muttered to Pharazon as they trudged through the forest behind the former lord of Darigan Citadel. "I wonder how long it'll take him to fully return."

"I think he's already made remarkable progress," Pharazon said.

Celice bit the side of her thumb and said, "That's what's got me worried. I can't predict what might happen when he remembers who he was. Darigan was benevolent… we don't have the same guarantee for Kass."

"I never asked for a guarantee," Pharazon said. "I want to do the right thing because it's right, not because it's safe." He laughed. "I sound like my owner now. I think I may fit into my family more than I previously assumed."

"Hold," Kass suddenly said. He had stopped a distance in front of them, putting out his paw to get them to stop while he looked around wide-eyed.

"What is it?" Celice asked, sniffing the air. She blinked. "Pharazon—do you sense that?"

Pharazon could feel it now, the unmistakeable energy signature making his body buzz. "Dark magic," he said. "Very powerful dark magic. Moving toward us."

Celice's fur bristled and she moved closer to Pharazon protectively. Kass's wings flared in an intimidation attempt as he backed toward the two, eyes riveted on the trees.

The Dark Faerie Sisters had found them, Pharazon thought. It was all over.

Then he heard grumbling quite unlike the sisters' haughty giggles. "Dratted forest—I hate forests," said a husky female voice. "Nothing has any business growing so thick like this. I blame Illusen entirely."

A rather malevolent-looking green and purple wand batted away some branches to reveal a tall dark faerie stalking through the woods in their direction. Her long hair, violet with a streak of lime, swished like a Uni's mane behind her as her head whipped back and forth, her purple eyes searching for something. "And to top it all off, the day had to be _sunny_ , after all that lovely rain yesterday… I ought to file a complaint with the air faeries…"

"Lady Jhudora!" Pharazon said in spite of himself.

Jhudora's attention snapped to the three, as though she just now noticed them. "What do you want?" she asked.

"You _know_ her?" Celice asked.

"Well, not as a friend or anything," Pharazon said. "But my family's gone on a few quests for her. You know, for the avatar and all that."

The dark faerie straightened herself up and smoothed out her purple and green dress, folding her wings behind her to try to look more professional. "I said, what do you want?" she asked again. "I don't have all day. I'm not out here for fun, you know."

"Sorry, milady," Pharazon said. "I just never expected to see you here. I thought we were closer to Meridell."

"You're between Brightvale and Faerieland," Jhudora said, inspecting her green, pointed nails. "And no, I usually would not be seen in such dreadful conditions—I'm hunting for spell reagents."

"Why not just send someone on a quest to fetch them?" Pharazon asked.

"Are you kidding me?" Jhudora said. "I'm not going to wait around for a century for a powerful enough Neopet to waltz onto my bluff so I can ask them to retrieve Space Faerie Mushrooms."

"With all due respect, milady," Celice said, "I've never heard of those."

"I'm not surprised," Jhudora said. "They're extremely rare, powerful, and dangerous. Most mycologists have never even seen one. They're said to only grow where shooting stars land, and there was a meteor reported in this area a week ago. I'm not missing this chance."

Kass wore a look of confusion as he asked, "She is not a threat?"

"No, she's okay," Pharazon said.

Folding her arms, the dark faerie approached them and said, "Well, I'd hardly label myself 'okay'. But I'm certainly not destructive like some of my sisters." She took a long look at Kass and then gave him a narrow-eyed smile. "I thought it was you."

"What?" the Eyrie said.

"Nothing," Jhudora said, waving her hand. "Now if you'll excuse me, those mushrooms aren't going to harvest themselves—" She turned away.

"Wait," Pharazon said, breaking away from Celice to approach the faerie. "Lady Jhudora, could I please ask your advice on something?"

She paused and looked down at him. "It depends on the advice," she said.

"Supposing we wanted to defeat some dark faeries—not you," Pharazon said, "how would we go about it?"

"Pharazon," Celice said, "I thought we were going to let Master Seradar handle this."

"I don't think we have that kind of time," Pharazon said. "If we are between Faerieland and Brightvale, that means we're closer to Market Town than Brightvale Castle. By the time we, or any communications, get to the University, and they decide what to do and send help to Market Town… it will probably be too late. We only have until tomorrow night."

Jhudora turned to fully face him, tapping her wand against her arm. "Now this sounds interesting," she said. "What's going on in Market Town tomorrow night?"

Celice grimaced and said, "Er—"

"It's okay," Pharazon said. "I think we can trust her." He paused. "And considering our deadline, we may have no choice but to trust her."

The Lupe nodded reluctantly. Looking back to the faerie, she cleared her throat and said, "The Dark Faerie Sisters have returned. They've set themselves up in Black Keep and are trying to resurrect the Darkest Knight to take over Brightvale and exact revenge on Meridell. They also implied targeting Faerieland afterward. Their spell will be complete on the night of the new moon."

"Oh, my," Jhudora said with a smirk. "Those three never were known for their foresight. Takeovers are just so much more trouble than they're worth."

"What I don't get," Pharazon said, "is how they returned in the first place. I mean, I thought Princess Roberta destroyed them."

"Faeries never really go away," Jhudora said. "They can be sealed, they can be stripped of their power and greyed, but you can never make them not exist anymore. We don't work like that."

"Roberta banished them to another plane," Celice explained to Pharazon.

"Because she had Fyora's Rod," Jhudora said. "That's another thing about faeries. We are beings of pure magical power. For a Neopet, just weakening us greater faeries is difficult enough. And only faeries possess the ability to remove their sisters' wings or exile them to a lower dimension."

"Only a weapon crafted by the Faerie Queen herself could imbue a Neopet with the necessary power, then," Celice said. "And it took them over a decade, but they've managed to claw their way back to this plane."

"Exactly," Jhudora said. She turned to leave. "All right, that's all you're getting out of me. I've probably already told you too much as it is. Fyora doesn't like Neopets knowing a lot about how to defeat faeries, bless her soul."

"Wait," Pharazon said again. "Milady, will you please help us stop them?"

She sighed and looked at him over her shoulder. "It's not really within my jurisdiction," she said. "I find it best not to get involved in these kinds of things. I prefer being a spectator, myself."

"I'll help you find those Space Faerie Mushrooms if you give us your assistance," Pharazon said. "I'm very sensitive to magic." He spread his wings, which sparked with faerie dust.

The dark faerie regarded him for a moment, then turned to him and laughed. "You clever boy," she said. "You know all about how faeries can't resist pacts."

"That's why they always send people on quests," Pharazon said.

"And you've caught me at a desperate time, too," Jhudora said. "Space Faerie Mushrooms don't propagate on Neopia, so once this batch dies, I'll have to wait for a fresh meteor to come in, and who knows how long that will take."

The Draik stuck out his hand and asked, "Do we have a deal?"

She looked him up and down, then crouched down and shook his hand, gripping it tightly. Her own lavender hand was cold and thrummed with power. "Yes," she said. "We have a deal."


	7. Chapter 7

Kass looked utterly confused, while Celice's jaw dropped. "Pharazon—" she sputtered. "Are you quite sure you know what you're doing?"

He grinned self-consciously and said, "I told you already, I'm not quite sure of anything. I'm just doing what feels right instead of waiting around for fear to drive my actions." He looked up at Jhudora. "We should find those mushrooms first, milady."

"Right," Jhudora said. "Now, how to go about this best…" Cradling her chin in the crook of her finger, she began to pace around him. "I could use you as a magical amplifier to send an echo-request down the ley lines." She tapped his head with her wand. "Stand up straight and hold out your arms."

Pharazon's first instinct was to ask if this was safe or if it was going to hurt, but he felt he owed Jhudora an implicit trust. She was not an evil dark faerie, just a grumpy one, and if there was one thing every faerie was good at, it was sticking to a bargain. He took a deep breath and did as she requested.

"What's going on?" Kass asked.

"It's all a bit much to explain," Celice said, moving him aside so Jhudora could work her magic unimpeded. "But don't worry about it. We'll get you somewhere safe."

He snorted, his long tail lashing, as they watched Jhudora wave her wand at various points around Pharazon. "I'm not a fledgling," the Eyrie said. "This sounds important. And I seem to remember having combat skills."

"Well, I suppose I can't stop you getting involved," Celice said. "But you're under no obligation to help us."

The Eyrie smiled faintly and said, "Of course I am." He readjusted his scarf and puffed out his chest. "I have people who need me now. I'm not sure you understand how good it feels just to have a purpose."

It took a moment for Celice to respond. "I'm glad you feel that way," she finally said.

"I hope this works," Pharazon said as Jhudora came to a halt behind him. "My magic's out. I, um, cast a spell out of my league yesterday."

"It should be fine," the faerie said. "I'm just going to use you to magnify my own abilities, and if you are as sensitive to magic as you say, it should be enough to help me find those mushrooms." She tapped her wand to the top of his head. "Now stay still."

Pharazon nodded and planted his feet firmer into the ground. No sooner had he done so then he was shoved from behind by a nonphysical force, making him stagger. It felt as though Jhudora was pushing magic through him. Before his eyes, the ground lit up with a network of glowing lines, Spyderwebbing away in all directions from the tips of his claws. Through his magical senses, he could feel them pulled taut and vibrating with power.

Each of them connected to a different energy in the forest, he realised. If he concentrated, he could discern what they belonged to. Trees, Petpets, various minerals in the soil, even the air itself. It was all a bit much to take in. There was even one thin blue-grey strand, so tenuous it was barely there, that stretched far into the distance. Black Keep. Pharazon drew in a breath. So it _had_ connected to him, and he wasn't just imagining things.

"Which one is it?" Jhudora asked.

"Can't you tell?" Pharazon asked. He tried to glance over his shoulder at the faerie, but the lines felt fragile, like if he moved too much his connection to them would snap.

"Don't get sassy with me," Jhudora said. "I'm no earth faerie. I can't read the ley lines so well in this life-infested place. I thought using you as magnification would help, but—"

"Wait," Pharazon said. "I think I'm getting something." One of the lines vibrated with a strange power that he didn't recognize. It was faint, but distinctive enough that it caught his attention. As he tuned out the other lines and focussed on this one, it reminded him of the smell of a neutron star's light, or what the colour of a nebula tasted like. Magic always had a funny way of mixing up the senses if one thought about it too much. "I think I found it."

Jhudora gripped his shoulder and asked, "Where?"

"That way," Pharazon said. He gestured, ever so slightly, to a thin string of indigo.

"Excellent," Jhudora said. "Let's be off." With a swipe of her wand she severed the other ley lines, leaving Pharazon connected solely to the Space Faerie Mushrooms, and ushered him away.

"Are you sure we have time for this?" Celice asked as she and Kass jogged after them.

"I'm not breaking my word," Pharazon said. "I told her I'd help her, and that's what I'm doing." With his short legs, he struggled to keep up with the tall faerie, and finally resorted to taking to the air in fluttering hops.

Celice snorted and said, "You remind me of nothing less than a Blumaroo when you do that, Pharazon."

"I shouldn't tire myself out with full flight just yet," the Draik replied. Never mind looking ridiculous—he needed to keep up his strength. They still had Black Keep to worry about, after all.

They followed the ley line for the better part of an hour, and all the while Pharazon felt the energy at the end grow stronger and stronger. Finally, nestled in a copse of ash trees, he saw a small cluster of radiant fungi with midnight-blue, red-starred caps and bronze stems.

"I can see why they call them Space Faerie Mushrooms," Celice said.

Pharazon moved toward them, but Jhudora grabbed him and pulled him back. "Don't get too close," she hissed. "Remember what I told you about them being dangerous? If you so much as pick them the wrong way, you could unleash a supernova." Her grip softened and she patted his shoulder. "Just stay there."

He stayed behind with Celice and Kass as the dark faerie strode over to the mushrooms, holding out her wand.

"How are you holding up?" Celice asked.

"Good," Pharazon said. He gave her a shy smile. "Thanks for having faith in me. I think this is going to work out."

She mussed his head tuft and said, "That's what friends are for, old sport. I dare say you do have a knack for getting into interesting situations—and gaining unusual allies." She motioned with her muzzle to Jhudora and Kass.

The Draik looked up at the Eyrie and said, "Sorry for dragging you into all this."

Kass shook his head. "I owe you a debt," he said. "You saved me… although I am still not quite sure from what." He grinned. "And I would much rather be doing this than tromping through the forest like a Petpet, cold and alone. It feels good to have…" He looked aside bashfully before returning his gaze to the Lupe and the Draik. "Friends."

"We'll be your friends," Pharazon said, patting his arm. "Right, Celice?"

The sorceress blinked and pushed her glasses up her snout. "Er—" She sighed and shook her head with a snicker. "Sure. Friends. What have I gotten myself into…"

Jhudora, meanwhile, approached the mushrooms tentatively, wand out in front of her, glowing with green energy. Once she was only a metre away from the fungi, she spread her arms and held her wand high, like the conductor of the Neopian Philharmonic about to start a symphony. The Faerie quivered, her nostrils flared, and then something snapped in the energy of the place. She had broken a barrier, Pharazon realised.

Muttering a spell under her breath, Jhudora started to swirl her wand, and a stream of green twisted from it toward the mushrooms. The dark faerie concentrated as her magic wove its way through whatever enchantments protected the rare growths. Finally the magic paused in front of them, and then spread out to envelop them like a coating of gel.

Jhudora took a deep breath and flicked her wand at the mushrooms. In a puff of green smoke, they disappeared.

She grinned and put a hand on her hip. "Nicely done, if I do say so myself," she said. Turning to Pharazon, she added, "And I mean that for you, too. Good to know there are Neopets I can rely on in this crazy world."

Pharazon smiled and said, "Thank you, milady. I'm just glad I was able to help."

Kass wandered around the ash trees, tilting his head up at their branches. "Where did they go?" he asked.

"I sent them back to my bluff," Jhudora said. "There's much you don't recall about magic, isn't there?"

"I have no idea what I did know before I found myself in the woods," Kass said. "I mean…" He blinked and looked at his paws. "I believe I was aware of magic, but I don't think I ever practised it myself."

Jhudora wore an impish grin, and for a moment Pharazon was afraid that she would reveal Kass's identity, but instead the faerie just shook her head and said, "It'll come in time. Now then—" She turned back to Pharazon and put her hands on her knees, peering down at him. "In what manner would you like me to fulfill my end of the bargain?"

"Er…" Pharazon reached to tug on his scarf and grasped only thin air before remembering Kass was wearing it. "I… didn't really think that far ahead, to be honest."

"Milady, could you contact Queen Fyora and ask her to send help?" Celice asked.

"Why not Master Seradar?" Pharazon asked.

"Like Jhudora said, it takes a faerie to fully defeat a faerie," the sorceress said. "And anyone Her Highness sends should get there in time. We have no such guarantees for Brightvale." She kicked the dirt. "Knowing them, it'd take a day or two just to decide what action to take, not to mention preparations. And all that awful red tape."

Jhudora laughed and said, "It is amusing how your kind's most powerful magic users constrain themselves under so many regulations to the point where they're barely effective. What do you say, Pharazon?"

The Draik thought for a moment, then said, "Yes, we had better contact Her Highness."

"Fyora it is, then," Jhudora said, and she snapped her fingers. Immediately a porthole-sized gap in the fabric of the universe appeared in front of her, floating at her face level. It fizzed with magic for a moment, and then the visage of the Faerie Queen came into view, as clearly as if she really had just been standing on the other side of a window. "Jhudy?" Fyora asked.

Jhudora flinched and cleared her throat. "I don't have time for chit-chat," she said. "We've got trouble in Market Town. The Darkest Faerie Sisters are back, they've occupied Black Keep, and they're going to resurrect the Darkest Knight tomorrow night. Send the best you've got in rogue faerie detainment."

The queen's purple eyes widened, and she said, "I had no idea—"

"Of course not," Jhudora said. "That's practically why magic cloaking was invented."

"Well, I sensed dark energy there," Pharazon said. "But I definitely didn't think it was something of this magnitude. I just assumed it was left over from the Darkest Knight."

Fyora noticed him and nodded. "No matter," she said. "I'll send in a special ops detachment of faerie knights, ASAP. Thanks for letting me know, Jhudy—ahem, Jhudora."

"No problem," Jhudora said, and flicked the portal closed.

Celice put a paw to her muzzle to disguise a grin. "' _Jhudy'?_ " she asked.

The dark faerie scowled. "No one else is allowed to call me that, are we understood?" she said, shaking a menacing finger. She folded her arms. "There, that's done. What will you do now?"

Left scarfless, Pharazon turned to fidgeting with his tail. "I don't feel right about just dropping this," he said.

"What do you mean?" Celice asked. "Fyora's knights are more than capable. And we're not exactly in any condition to confront power-hungry faeries."

"I know," Pharazon said. He swallowed hard. "To be honest… I keep feeling this weird tugging in the back of my mind. Like Black Keep wants us to return to it." The confused expression on Celice's face urged him to continue. "But it's not a bad feeling, not the same vibe I was getting from the Dark Faerie Sisters and their magic. It's more like… somebody there needs us."

Well, needed _him_ , to be more specific. But he didn't want to go back there alone.

Jhudora put a hand on his head and leaned on him casually. "I had better go, too," she said. "Those goody-two-shoes knights tend to be pretty clueless about dark magic, and the Dark Faerie Sisters are not your garden-variety troublemakers."

"I want to help," Kass said with a nod. "Put a sword in my paws and I'll…" He paused and frowned. "Yes… swords seem familiar." Clenching his fists together, he began pantomiming strikes and blocks, slowly at first, but then with escalating levels of grace and skill.

Celice still did not say anything. Finally she looked down at Pharazon and said, "You realise I won't be able to assist magically in any way. I'm basically dead weight."

"No, you're moral support," Pharazon said, "and plenty smart besides."

The sorceress pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders and said, "I suppose so…"

Pharazon thought she did not sound entirely convinced, and he reached over and gave her paw a squeeze. "It'll be okay, Celice," he said. "Thanks for believing in me. I won't let you down, I promise."

She gave him a weak smile and said, "Thanks."

"Well, let's be off, then," Jhudora said. "You lot were saying something about an inn? That's the one on the main highway from Faerieland to Market Town. You'll need plenty of food and sleep in you for tomorrow." She turned and ducked under a low branch.

Pharazon scrambled to catch up with her. "Wait—we're walking?" he asked. "Why? Only one of us doesn't have wings."

Jhudora looked back at Kass and asked, "Can you fly?"

The Eyrie stretched his wings tentatively. "I don't think I've flown for a very long time," he said. "The muscles are weak." He sighed. "I doubt I could sustain flight for very long right now, much less if I'm carrying someone."

"Trust me," Jhudora said, "it'll take less time to walk than it will for our feathered friend to remaster powered flight." And that settled that.

"What I don't get," Kass said as they began to follow her through the woods, "is why your faeries cannot simply teleport into Black Keep and cut this problem off immediately."

Jhudora tossed a grin at him over his shoulder and said, "Can you imagine how many wars would have been cut short if every hero just teleported straight to their foe? Way to remove all the drama."

"Teleportation is immensely powerful and draining magic," Celice said. "Even for experienced casters, it takes a lot out of you, and that's the last thing you want if you're about to enter combat."

"There's also the fact that teleportation creates a huge and uncloakable magical signature in the energies of the target area," Jhudora said. "The Dark Faerie Sisters would be alerted to any incoming opponents, and could strike before the teleporter fully rematerialised. In that state, you're extremely vulnerable… yes, not pretty at all."

"Magic's a lot more complicated than it looks," Pharazon explained to the Eyrie. "Good magic users can make it look effortless, but there are a lot of risks and technical details that most people don't stop to consider. That's why associations like Brightvale University and the Order of the Red Erisim have so many regulations."

"Not to say they don't go overboard," Jhudora said. "But put too few regulations in place and, well, you get gangs of wizards trying to evade the law, cutting corners and putting both others and themselves in far more danger than they realise."

"Yes, this is a lot to take in," Kass said. "No offense, but it makes me glad I don't use magic."

"It's not for everyone," Jhudora said with a shrug. "Like you mentioned before, some people prefer the weight of a blade in their hands."

"My brother Hyren is like that," Pharazon said, smiling up at Kass. "I think you two would get along well." After all, Hyren and the Werelupe King had turned into sparring partners. The Grundo seemed, Pharazon thought, to gravitate towards other swordspets like himself. Pharazon wondered what his own choice of friends said about him.

He looked around at Celice, Kass, and Jhudora, and decided it meant he was the type of person who could be trusted to follow his gut. And if it was telling him they needed to head back to Black Keep, that was what they would do.


	8. Chapter 8

This was the longest Pharazon could ever recall walking. His feet hurt. He'd tried flying until his wings hurt, but his feet hadn't stopped hurting by then, and walking took less energy anyway.

The hunger didn't help. Their breakfast that morning, while kind of Kass to retrieve for them, had not been filling enough, and Pharazon's stomach began to complain loudly, as did Celice's.

"No, I will not teleport all of us to the inn," Jhudora said when Pharazon asked her about it. "Teleporting oneself takes enough energy, but four people at once? Good glory, do you want me to have any energy left over to confront the Dark Faerie Sisters or not?" So that, once again, settled that.

Pharazon was fairly certain that Jhudora, being a being of pure magic, did not quite understand the mortal needs of hunger and fatigue, but he could not argue that she needed to be at full power tomorrow. If teleportation was easy, he thought, one would see people popping in and out of existence all the time. But one didn't, which was testament enough that teleportation was not easy.

Kass, however, was more sympathetic, and when his two Neopet companions couldn't take it anymore, he called a halt to the march. Pharazon and Celice collapsed on a flattish rock and a fallen log, respectively, and Kass left to find them some food.

Jhudora conjured a purple cloud to sit on so she wouldn't have to soil her clothes, and entertained herself by creating shadow silhouettes of Petpets that danced among the trees. Celice stayed silent, lost in thought, still clutching her cloak tightly. Her ears were as drooped as her posture. Something about being cut off from her magic made her look more tired and frail to Pharazon.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

She snapped her jaw like she was trying to get peanut butter off the roof of her mouth, then looked over at him. "I wasn't really expecting this," the sorceress said quietly.

"I know," Pharazon said, "but I'm trying to make the best of what we have, and things seem to be working out well."

"Maybe," Celice said.

"What do you mean, 'maybe'?" Pharazon asked. "Fyora is sending faerie knights to Black Keep, and we're going back there with Jhudora and—" He glanced around to make sure their Eyrie companion wasn't within earshot. "And Lord Kass. I believe they can protect us."

Celice removed her glasses, and rubbed at her eyes. "It just seems like—there are too many variables," she said. "Too many ways this could all go wrong."

"But it's not going wrong," Pharazon said. "I feel like everything's falling into place." When he received only silence as a reply, he said, "Didn't you want me to believe in myself more? To take action? And now I am doing that… and you're doubting me."

"I'm sorry," Celice said. "I know what I told you before, and you're right, there's a discrepancy. It's just… I've never had such a hard time believing in anything before. I've never had to operate like this, feeling so out of control. I… usually wield more power than this, truth be told."

"You know what I've noticed in all the stories I've read?" Pharazon asked. "The heroes' real tests come when they need to do something hard—not hard in general, but hard for them in particular. Courage isn't courage if you just do easy things all the time and pat yourself on the back for it. I think courage is being confronted with a weakness and acting to overcome it." He paused. "I've found that a lot depends on those moments."

He should have been more courageous during his time with the Werelupes, he knew that. When faced with a situation he didn't understand and would classify as unfortunate, he was tempted to let his fear turn to anger and hatred, and he succumbed to it. Skoll goaded him into taking the easier path and it nearly destroyed him—and everyone else besides.

But now, things were different. Celice had called him out yesterday when he'd started to do the same thing. He had been faced with the choice to either forgive her and himself and put effort into bettering their situation, or keep feeling angry and victimised and helpless. And he made the right decision this time. He could feel it inside.

"Are you trying to make me feel bad?" Celice asked.

Pharazon opened his eyes to find her still staring out at the woods. "No—I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean it that way. I just… need you to have some faith in me, please. I can't claim I know exactly what I'm doing, or what will happen, but it feels right. I'm just doing what you asked me to, and I know we both got way more than we bargained for… but I get the impression life likes to do that, if you let it."

The Lupe stayed silent for a long moment. Finally, she glanced over at the Draik with a small smile and said, "Your wisdom could put King Hagan to shame, old sport. You've figured out more than most Neopets ever do."

"Well, I've been through a whole lot already," Pharazon said. "Like them or not, crazy experiences do end up teaching you something in the end." He looked over at Jhudora, who seemed to be ignoring them, caught up in the play of her shadow-puppets. "Life's a lot like magic. It's not tidy, it doesn't play by our rules. Sometimes we get asked to do some really outlandish things, like befriend Werelupes or make a pact with a dark faerie. We can either run from these choices and stick with our comfort zone, or take the plunge and discover what we can really make of ourselves."

"You say these things with such confidence," Celice said with a weary laugh. "Did you swallow a self-help book last night, by any chance?"

Pharazon grinned up at her in embarrassment and said, "I think it's a combination of things my family's always trying to tell me, and stuff I've just now figured out. Or maybe that I've known for a while now but didn't really want to believe. I'm sorry, I just—" He shook his head. "I'm not trying to guilt trip you. I know this must be hard for you. But I also know you're strong and brave and try hard to do the right thing." He extended his hand to her. "Can you find it in your heart to trust me?"

The sorceress looked him over for just a moment, then clutched his hand. "Yes," she said. "I'm not one hundred percent sure of anything, either, but if we all waited for that, Neopia would grind to a halt. This feels right, and I'm going to focus all of my energy on that. Doubt is the great destroyer, Pharazon. I won't let it overtake me."

"Me, either," Pharazon said.

"Very touching," Jhudora said from her cloud. She turned to regard them like a smug Kadoatie, and her shadows shivered and vanished. "It's nice to see Neopets who have a spark of nerve in them, for once. Our dearly deposed Citadel lord is returning, by the way."

Sure enough, Pharazon's ears soon picked up the crackle of paws on dead leaves, and shortly afterward Kass emerged in the clearing with an armful of nuts and carrots. He sat down in front of the other two Neopets and then began distributing the food evenly.

"Sir?" Celice said as he handed her a walnut whose shell he had cracked with his beak.

He glanced up at her and tilted his head. "Hm?" he asked.

She smiled and said, "I'm glad you're here. Thanks for being our friend."

"The honour is all mine," Kass said.

"And I'm glad you're here too, Jhudora," Celice said.

The faerie waved a hand at her with a smirk and said, "I know. Congratulations on your personal growth, Miss Anfel."

The three ate in silence, focussed more on getting some food in them than on conversation, and set off again as soon as they were done. Celice walked with more poise and confidence now, and Pharazon thought she looked rather stately even though her fur and clothes were a mess. It made him happy to see her feeling better about everything that was going on. He needed her support now more than ever.

After that, they walked for a surprisingly short time when the trees suddenly thinned out and Pharazon found himself looking at a wide dirt highway. On the other side was a good-sized inn whose chimneys merrily puffed with smoke, surrounded by parked carriages and a Petpet stable.

Celice let out a gasp of relief and said, "Oh, _finally_."

"Well, we look a sight," Pharazon said, trying to wipe the dirt off of his scales. "Hopefully they won't think we're paupers and refuse us." Celice's fine robes were caked in mud, and Kass looked about what one would expect an Eyrie to look like after living in the wild for over a decade.

Only Jhudora was still immaculate, and she shook her head with a smile. "Most folks in the country don't ask questions," she said. "Especially not about paying customers." She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a small pouch of Neopoints. "Let's get some food and a couple of rooms, my treat."

The inn's first floor was not particularly crowded, although there were still a number of Neopets eating and talking at tables in front of the large hearth. They mostly looked like merchants and woodspets, which Pharazon thought made sense as the inn seemed to be quite far from any farmland. This must have been an opportune place for travellers on the highway to get some hot food and a good night's sleep.

The four put in an order for dinner, and then sprawled out at the nearest free table. Pharazon laid his arms on the old wood and soaked in the heat from the fire, and Celice hung her cloak over the back of her chair to inspect the mud.

"I'll have to get a water mage to give it a good cleaning when we get back to Brightvale," she said. "Sadly, there are some problems that being a pyromancer doesn't solve. Such as laundry."

Neopets did give them weird looks, especially Kass and Jhudora, but no one said anything. Pharazon presumed nobody really wanted to ask what a dark faerie and a disheveled Darigan Eyrie were doing in their midst.

The Draik felt like he'd only just begun to rest when a Kyrii server arrived with their food. Of course, the aroma alone was enough to perk Pharazon up. He'd ordered the Ixi soup – so named because of its status as a traditional Ixi Day dish, not because of its contents – and could barely restrain himself from shoveling the cheesy, creamy vegetable soup down his maw at too quick of a pace.

For a long while they just sat and savoured the simple delight of good food, made all the better by a day and a half's trekking through the woods. Celice and Kass ripped into platters of meat and beans smothered in gravy, while Jhudora, who did not need to eat, contented herself with sampling some cackleberry juice.

It was only after they had eaten their fill, and a Kacheek at another table had started on the second verse of her ballad about Brightvale knights, that Celice sat up and ran a paw through her hair. "I ought to find us a Uni driver," she said, "before I forget. Best to hire one now, before they likely leave in the morning."

"Do you want me to do it?" Pharazon asked. "I don't mind." Usually he would mind, but he wanted to make a conscious effort to get out of his shell more. And he had already done so many crazy things lately, talking to a stranger seemed like small potatoes in comparison.

The Lupe looked over at him and shook her head with a smile. "No," she said. "You've already done more than enough. Let me take a turn at something for once." She glanced around the room, seemed to see something she liked, and excused herself.

A verse and a half later she returned with a grin and said, "I've found a nice fellow who's agreed to take us to Market Town tomorrow morning."

"Oh, excellent," Pharazon said. "I just hope we get there before sundown…" He thumbed the edge of the table. "Why can't we leave right now?"

"Because we'd arrive at midnight," Jhudora said, "and I'd rather you all get a proper night's sleep before everything goes down." She had her wings draped over her shoulders like a cloak, and the claws on their joints flexed before locking back together. "Trust me, Pharazon. We're getting there as fast as we're able without sacrificing too much."

Swirling the contents of her mug, she looked over at Celice and said, "I swear, you mortals and your instant gratification. 'Haste makes waste', that's the saying, right? Did Hagan really coin that phrase, or is he taking more credit than he should again?"

Celice chuckled. "As far as I can tell," she said, "it's been around far longer than Hagan. I think we'll get there with time to spare, if we set out early in the morning. Accounting for stops, we should arrive at Market Town well before sundown." She yawned and rubbed her eyes. "And I really could do with sleeping on a bed for once. I don't know about the rest of you."

"I can't sleep in carriages," Pharazon said. "It gives me motion sickness. I think you're right. We should be fine leaving tomorrow." Not that getting a good night's sleep meant that he felt any more equipped to take on three malevolent faeries. But he at least didn't want to arrive any _less_ equipped if he could help it.

Kass managed a small smile and said, "It has been nice to indulge in civilisation again. After the fine meal Lady Jhudora has treated us to, I think I'd like to take her up on her hospitable offer of lodging, as well."

"Who knows," Jhudora said, draining the dregs of her juice. "Maybe it'll jog your memory."

Pharazon and Celice shared a nervous grimace that they tried to disguise as a polite smile. The sorceress had a valid point—no one could predict what Kass might do if he remembered who he was. Pharazon began to wish the Eyrie never would find out.

The Kacheek's epic finally ended, and she held the last note for as long as possible before applause erupted from her audience. Pharazon and his companions clapped as well.

"Oh, I love that ballad," Celice said. "Not the least because it's about Brightvale."

"Another!" called a voice from the crowd, and it was echoed by several more of the inn's patrons.

Someone stuck a lavender fin in the air. "I've got one!" shouted a purple Koi. "The Legend of Sir Jeran Borodere!"

Pharazon felt his stomach jerk.

"Aye, let's hear it!" another Neopet said.

Kass's feathers fluffed. "Jeran Borodere… I feel like I know him," he said.

"We should get some sleep," Pharazon suddenly said, standing up from the table and grabbing the Eyrie's arm. "C'mon—long day today—lots of hiking—"

Kass looked up at him as the Koi took a spot by the hearth and said, "I want to hear this song, it sounds interesting."

"It's—it's not interesting at all, really," Celice said, standing up so quickly that her chair fell over. "Pharazon's right, we all need our rest." She shot a desperate glare at Jhudora, who merely watched with an amused smile.

"It's filled with unpleasant things about the Darigan Citadel, anyway," Pharazon said, trying to push the massive Eyrie toward the stairs. "All about the wars and stuff."

Kass stopped on the first step and furrowed his brow. "What wars?" he asked.

Pharazon swallowed hard, feeling like he'd just made things worse. "Bad wars," he said. "You wouldn't sleep well if you heard about them. Trust me."

It was too late. The Koi had opened his mouth and begun to belt out a tune describing the life and feats of a certain blue Lupe knight, starting from Jeran's stumbling into the Meridell time warp as a child.

"Leaving so soon?" Jhudora asked. "It just gets better after this."

Pharazon glared at her from behind Kass and mouthed "why are you doing this".

She leaned her head in her hand and asked, "Why are _you_ denying him what he wants to know?"

The Draik ducked his snout. He was afraid. Not just afraid of Kass as the Eyrie had once been, but afraid of losing the friendship of someone he really had grown to consider a friend. Pharazon felt like he'd already inadvertently been instrumental on unleashing one villain on Neopia. He could not mess this up again.

"You can read about it when we get back to Market Town," he said to Kass, lashing his long tail. "We should sleep now, while we have the chance."

The Koi had moved on to verses about Jeran's quick rise to knighthood and various heroics in the service of King Skarl, and Kass looked down at Pharazon with a piercing crimson stare, as if trying to figure him out. Finally the Eyrie nodded. "If you think it's best, we'll sleep now. I didn't mean to upset you—"

An Usul banged his mug on his table and said, "Oy! Get ter the part about the Kass War!"

Pharazon groaned. If he made Kass move any faster, the Eyrie would definitely suspect something. All he could do was hope Kass was not paying attention as the Koi skipped a few verses and began singing about a cruel and ambitious Eyrie general who assumed control of the Citadel after Lord Darigan's defeat.

Kass was riveted. His eyes were wide and the tip of his tufted tail twitched, and Pharazon could not get him to budge any further up the stairs.

Celice was already on the top floor, looking down at the two in horror. "Oh please, let's just leave it alone," she begged. "You can read about all the history you like after we take care of the Dark Faerie Sisters, I promise!"

"This all sounds familiar," Kass said. "I think I was there—" He gasped and put a paw to his head like he'd been struck. Staggering back, he nearly fell down the stairs, but caught himself by digging his claws into the wall. As he recovered, his breathing became laboured. "I… I think you're right, Pharazon. I need to lie down."

Feebly, the Eyrie made his way up the stairs, and Pharazon showed him to the room the two would share. Kass collapsed on one of the beds, rubbing at his face like there was something there he was trying to scrub off.

Pharazon backed out of the room and shut the door behind him, spinning around to see Celice lingering in the hall. The two stared at each other in silence. From here, the singing could still be faintly heard, but the words were impossible to discern.

The Lupe's ears were pinned back and her tail curled low. "What do we do?" she whimpered.

"I don't know," Pharazon said, feeling sick to his stomach. "I—I didn't really stop to think this far ahead." He wandered over to her and leaned against the hallway wall. "I kind of hoped we wouldn't have to worry about it."

Celice held her arms and said, "I'm afraid—I don't want him to remember anything." Her golden eyes wandered to the door. "I have family who lives in Meridell. I recall how badly they were affected by the Kass War…" She ducked her head. "I don't want to see them go through that again—"

Footsteps creaked on the stairs, and Pharazon turned to see Jhudora striding toward them. "Well, that was fun," the faerie said.

Pharazon scowled and said, "Do you have any decency? Why didn't you help us?!"

"Because you're making a mountain out of a Symolhill," Jhudora said, folding her arms. "He's going to remember sooner or later. I think he would rather his 'friends' not try to hide the truth from him."

The two Neopets exchanged guilty glances, and Celice looked back at the faerie with a growl in her voice. "But he's a tyrant!" the Lupe said. "He was merciless even to his own people!"

"He _was_ a tyrant," Jhudora said. "And he certainly wasn't hatched that way. Maybe he grew into the role after one too many Neopets betrayed him." Her imperious gaze fell on Pharazon. "What are you going to do, run off and leave him, too, because you fear his potential?"

The Draik only had to think for a moment before saying, "No. I think that would make things worse. We're his only friends in the world right now… and friends don't abandon friends." He straightened up. "I am not a coward. Not anymore. It makes no difference what Kass did—I'm not giving up on him."

Jhudora smiled and said, "So all that big talk about faith and trust wasn't just you spouting empty platitudes." She looked over at Celice. "And what will you do? It would be so easy for you to return to Brightvale alone at this point."

"It would be easy," Celice said, staring at the floor. "I… I don't know. Pharazon, I'm sorry, I don't know right now," she said in response to the Draik's pleading look. She cradled her head in one paw. "I need to sleep on it."

"Celice—" Pharazon said as she turned to leave.

"Not right now, please," she said, her tone strained. Brushing him aside, she stalked into hers and Jhudora's room and shut the door behind her.

For a long moment, the Draik and the faerie stood in the hallway alone. Finally Pharazon looked up at Jhudora and asked, "Am I doing the right thing?"

"You tell me," Jhudora said. "You've gotten yourself in this far, boy. Will you see things through to the end, or duck out?"

"Celice is upset with me," Pharazon said.

"So you're going to change your mind," Jhudora said, "on something you feel so strongly about, because one imperfect person is upset with you? She has her own struggles to wrestle with. That doesn't make all of her perceptions or conclusions correct. Far from it, in fact."

Pharazon frowned and said, "Does that mean _my_ perceptions and conclusions _are_ correct?"

Jhudora took her wand out of her pocket and absently inspected the Korbat-like wings that stretched from it. "I've found it's best," she said, "not to entirely trust either your perceptions or your conclusions."

"Then what _do_ I trust?!" Pharazon asked, stomping the floor with one foot in frustration.

"You tell me," Jhudora said again.

The Draik grimaced and said, "Are you trying to help me by making me think out my own answers to my questions? Because it's really annoying. It would be so much less effort if you just _told_ me what I need to know."

Jhudora laughed. "And then what?" she asked. "You'd be dependent on me for all of your answers for the rest of eternity." She moved past Pharazon to grab the handle of her door. "If you really want to grow, you'll have to learn to not always take the easy way out."

Pharazon balled his fists and stared at the floor like a petulant child. He did know the answers—he just didn't want to admit them. Because Jhudora was right. It was hard, and it looked unreasonable on the surface. How could one justify doing things just because they felt right, with no guarantees as to the result?

How else could one justify anything in the end, Pharazon thought. Neopets were not machines that could perfectly calculate every outcome in the universe. And life, he knew, was full of surprises that no one could account for ahead of time. As illogical as it sounded sometimes, in the end, moving forward on faith created better results than relying solely on emotion or reason. There were some problems that neither could ever solve.

"I have to trust my heart," he said as Jhudora turned the handle. "It's been telling me that Kass is okay. And—" He gnawed at his lip. "Even if Celice disagrees, even if she goes home, it won't change my mind. I know what I need to do. Black Keep is calling me."

Opening the door a crack, the dark faerie smiled and said, "You really are far stronger than you give yourself credit for. Keep it up."

"Thanks," Pharazon said. "Oh—tell Celice I'm sorry. And that she's a good friend."

"I'm not a Weewoo," Jhudora said. "But she'll get the message." She slipped into the room and closed the door.

Pharazon felt so alone right then. It seemed like an eternity that he stood in the hallway, out of options. He didn't want to go to his room and face Kass. He didn't want Celice to leave him, as understandable as that course of action would be. He even wished Jhudora wasn't so frustratingly helpful.

But then he heard feet on the steps, and decided he would rather take his chances with Kass than someone surely wondering what all the ruckus had been with the Darigan Eyrie who'd nearly fallen down the stairs. Shaking his head, Pharazon grabbed the handle of his door and pulled himself inside, closing it behind him.

Kass was asleep, or at least appeared to be. He had one arm draped over his face, and his breathing was slow and steady. Not even his tail moved, which Pharazon knew was a sure sign an Eyrie was totally out.

Numbly, the Draik made his way to the other bed and sat down on it, thoughts and doubts and fears buzzing relentlessly in his brain. Doing the right thing wasn't just hard—it was excruciating. Even more so when it was so absurd-seeming that it made Pharazon begin to doubt that it really was the right thing.

Maybe, he thought, he was just doomed to fail every time. Maybe he was nothing but a miserable, wishy-washy loser.

A tap on the window not only broke him out of his thoughts, but made him nearly jump out of his skin. Putting a hand on his racing heart, Pharazon looked over to see a white Weewoo rapping its beak on the windowpane. In one foot, it clutched a letter.

Pharazon opened the window a crack, and the avian Petpet deposited the mail in his hand and then took off in a flurry of feathers. The Draik retreated to his bed and turned the letter over. It was addressed to him.

He opened it and began to read, instantly recognising his owner's handwriting.

 _Hey Pharazon!_

 _How are you doing? I hope you're having fun in Brightvale! Don't worry, everything's cool here on the Space Station. Turns out Hyren knows a lot more awesome ex-Sloth employees than I thought. And Blynn still won't stop pulling the Lever of Doom even though we have the avatar. She just wants to figure out where all the NP goes, and she's been trying to get the hand to grab her instead of our hard-earned funds. No such luck yet._

 _I got to meet some real bounty hunters today! I guess Hyren worked with them sometimes in his old job. They were actually pretty nice, y'know, for bounty hunters. We went out to lunch with them and they had all sorts of fun stories to tell us._

 _Anyway, I'm really proud of you, Pharazon. I know it wasn't easy for you to travel to Brightvale alone, but I can't help but feel like you'll be okay._

Pharazon stopped reading and looked up at Kass, and felt something well up inside of him. It was a burning determination. If he could trust anyone in this crazy world, it was his owner, and he knew she was right. He felt it in the very core of his being. He was doing the right thing. He didn't know how or why, but everything would be okay as long as he didn't give up.

The Draik let himself bask in that wonderful feeling for a moment before reading the rest of the letter.

 _You have a strong heart, Pharazon. I believe in you, and so do Blynn and Hyren and all of our friends. You'll have to tell me all about your time in Brightvale when you come back._

 _Much love,_

 _Terra_

Pharazon reached up to wipe away a few tears. Count on his family to be there for him right when he really needed it. There were no coincidences in Neopia.

He sat in silence for a second before pulling open the drawer of the bedside table. Inside was a stack of paper, a quill, and a bottle of ink. Even the most remote inn could be counted on to keep these supplies stocked. Pharazon set the paper down on the table, dipped the quill, and began to compose a reply.

 _Dear Terra,_

 _I'm so glad everyone's doing well. I'm okay. The situation in Market Town turned out to be a little more complicated than Celice expected, but we're on our way to solving it._

There was no reason to give his family the full story, not yet. They were in no position to help him, and he would not drag them into something they probably could not handle. Although the thought of Hyren storming Black Keep, sword in hand, made Pharazon grin.

 _It's been rainy and dreary here, which I know you like, but it just freezes my scales off. I'm so glad we live in Altador._

 _I know you worry about me. I'm feeling better than I ever have. I've come to some important realisations lately, and I'm sorry for all the times I've resisted you trying to teach me anything about life. It didn't fall on deaf ears, I assure you. Thanks for not giving up on me._

 _I should be home by next week, but I'll shoot you another Neomail if plans change. I look forward to seeing you guys again._

 _Love,_

 _Pharazon_

The Draik waved the paper so the ink would dry, holding it close to the lantern on the table. The fire mote inside the lantern rolled around lazily, savouring the last bits of some tasty kindling.

After a few moments, Pharazon folded the letter and secured it with string. He looked over at the window and paused before ducking back to the paper and ink. Tapping the quill on the side of the ink bottle to prevent drips, he put it to work again.

 _Dear Suhel,_

 _I'm sorry I haven't contacted you lately. You know how life gets in the way and_

Pharazon frowned and crossed that sentence out.

 _It's taken me a long time to come to terms with everything that happened at the Werelupe Burrows. Not just my situation, but my reactions to it. I'm sorry I treated you poorly. Despite your sense of humour, I know you were taking care of me like the Werelupe King asked you to._

 _I should have paid attention to the way you distrusted Skoll, and I did some things when I was angry at you that I'm not proud of. Please forgive me._

 _I'm okay now. I'm not angry at you anymore. By the end of it all, I could tell you really cared about me, and I don't want you to think I hate you. So I'm dropping you a line to get back in contact._

 _Terra's been talking about going back to the Burrows for another visit after the Altador Cup ends. I'm looking forward to it. I imagine you'll have all sorts of stories to tell me._

 _Hoping to hear from you soon,_

 _Pharazon_

The Draik felt as if an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt better by leaps and bounds, and a relieved smile worked its way up his snout.

Riding on that feeling, he opened the window again and stuck the two letters out into the dusk. The flapping of wings told him a Weewoo had seen him, and a moment later the mail was grabbed by one of the Petpets – possibly the same individual from earlier – who took off into the sky, over the treetops.

Weewoos had an uncanny ability to locate virtually anyone in the world, which was why they made for the best Neomail couriers. Years of research, both biological and magical, had been unable to determine just how the Petpets did it.

Pharazon thought, as he closed the shutters and returned to his bed, that it probably had to do more with magic than biology. After all, Weewoos could not read, and yet they still managed to deliver mail to the correct person with unnatural accuracy. Curling up under the blanket, Pharazon wondered if they used ley lines.

He took one last look over at Kass. Reason told him he should probably be more afraid about sleeping in the same room as a deposed warlord recovering from amnesia and insanity. But Pharazon was done letting his thoughts and feelings drive him to doubt and despair. He was doing the right thing, and that meant everything would work out, one way or another.

Reaching over, he shut the door of the lantern, leaving them in darkness. Then he curled up and tried to get some sleep. It did not come easily, but at last it came.

* * *

Pharazon didn't know why, but he found himself awake again. He always was a light sleeper, and any sound or movement might break him out of his sleep cycle. Face scrunched in confusion, he turned over and sat up.

The lantern was still closed, but the window shutters were open, letting in the feeble starlight of a near-moonless night. Standing in front of them, gazing out the window, was Kass.

He looked different, Pharazon thought. The Eyrie carried himself higher than the day before. His paws were folded behind his back, and as he turned to regard Pharazon, his crimson eyes held a keenness and ferocity like a Horus's.

Pharazon sucked in a breath. A horrible realisation washed over him even before Kass opened his beak.

"I remember who I am," he said regally. "Lord Kass of Kass Citadel."


	9. Chapter 9

Pharazon had no idea what to say. This was the moment he and Celice had been dreading, and although Pharazon had put on a brave front earlier, now that it was actually happening, the only thing he could think of to do was, perhaps, hide under the bed. But fear kept him rooted to the spot.

"Why did you not tell me sooner?" Kass asked, tilting his head. His tone, though proud, carried no anger, just curiosity.

Everything Jhudora said ran through Pharazon's mind. This was it. He could not keep messing things up. He was going to do the right thing even though it terrified him. So he forced himself out of bed and dragged himself over to the Eyrie lord. "We were afraid," Pharazon said. "You—you're kind of notorious, you know—and Celice has family in Meridell, so she got really scared—" He shook his head. "But you're right, we should have told you, and I'm sorry. We were just enjoying your companionship so much, we worried that if you knew… you'd leave us. Or turn on us."

Kass searched his face in the dim light for a moment, then smiled and said, "I appreciate your honesty. I meant what I said, though, amnesia or no. I owe you for your kindness and I will accompany you to Black Keep."

Pharazon's eyes widened. "Oh—thank you, er, sir!" he said. "Um, Your Lordship?" What, exactly, did one call a ruler who was no longer a ruler?

"Just Kass," the Eyrie said with a rumbling laugh. "To my friends, it's just Kass." He extended a paw to Pharazon.

The Draik did not hesitate to take it. "I'm glad we're friends, Kass," he said.

"Me, too," Kass said.

Nothing more needed to be said on the matter. Pharazon supposed most people would think him mad for simply forgiving and accepting Kass—but Pharazon was determined to forget about them. Most people had a slew of problems and were in no position to tell him how to live his life. After all, his owner had done this same thing with the Werelupe King. Madness evidently ran in their family.

"Are you okay?" Pharazon asked. "When did you remember?"

"I'm fine," Kass said. "I had a bit of a headache earlier, but it's gone now." He glanced toward the door. "That song downstairs brought everything back. I didn't want to believe it at first, but I've woken up to discover it wasn't just a bad dream." He examined his paws and smoothed down the matted fur on his forearms. "My goodness, but living in the woods does terrible things to a Neopet's hygiene. How long was I gone for?"

"It's Year 18," Pharazon said.

The Eyrie's eyes bulged and he said, "Twelve years, then. How's… how's the Citadel getting along?"

"Quite well," Pharazon said. "It's still above Meridell. Relations between the two nations are good, and the Citadel's economy is stable. A number of Draconians live on the surface now, but it's mostly because there's been such a population expansion on the Citadel." He smiled. "It even has its own professional sports team, and they're quite popular, if you can believe it."

Kass chuckled. "We always did have a roguish charm to us," he said. "That's good to know. I'm glad." The smile froze on his face and he turned back to the window, his eyes narrowing.

"What's wrong?" Pharazon asked.

It took a long while for the Eyrie to reply. "The Three have started speaking to me again," he said quietly. "They tell me you will betray me."

Pharazon felt his adrenaline spike. "Do you believe them?" he asked.

Kass took a breath, and then looked down at the small Draik and said, "No. I believed them once, and look what good it did me." He leaned a hand on the windowsill. "They are desperate now. They want me back." His claws extended and dug into the wood. "They will not take me."

"Lord Darigan escaped from them," Pharazon said. "I know you can, too."

"I have to," Kass said. "If not, they will continue to torment me until I either go mad again or give in to their lies. And I do not prefer either of those outcomes."

Pharazon put a hand on the Eyrie's arm and said, "I'll help. In whatever way I can. We'll find a way out of this."

Kass nodded, although he still looked pained. "Pharazon… I was a monster twelve years ago," he said. "I'm so sorry for all the grief and pain I've caused. I don't know how I can ever make things right again." He dragged a paw over his face, mussing his feathers. "By all rights I should never show my face in the Citadel again. I deserve to spend the rest of my days in the woods."

"I'll bet that's what the Three want you to believe," Pharazon said. "I don't think it's true. You're still here, which means you have another chance. Don't throw it away, Kass. You have so many strengths—you just need to learn to use them for good now. It will be worth it."

Kass turned around to rest his elbows on the windowsill. "I hope so," he said. "I just have no idea how to even begin to do that."

"Just start with coming with me to Black Keep," Pharazon said. "That's a good thing. Don't overwhelm yourself thinking about too much at once. Believe me, I do that all the time and all it does is give me a stomachache."

The Eyrie smiled down at him and said, "That wouldn't be good."

"Will you be okay tonight?" Pharazon asked.

"The Three will not get to me this time around," Kass said. "I swear it." Reaching down, he patted the Draik's head. "Just having friends helps immensely. When I'm with you… their voices are harder to hear."

"Good," Pharazon said. "Then I'll stick with you for as long as it takes."

"They will regret attempting to take me back," Kass snarled. His feathers fluffed for a moment before his expression softened. "You should get some sleep. We'll probably leave fairly early in the morning."

Pharazon nodded and made his way back to his bed. His nerves were still jittery, but he knew he needed the rest. It would be a bad idea to return to Black Keep without a full night's sleep. "So you're sure there's nothing I can do for you?" he asked.

Kass, who had been staring at the wall pensively, glanced over at him and smiled. "Your friendship is already an immense boon to me," the Eyrie said. "Sleep well." He paused. "Let us look forward to brighter days ahead."

"Yes, let's," Pharazon said. Lying down, he continued to watch the Eyrie for a moment. He still trusted Kass. Pharazon had just gone through his own time of doubt and come out victorious, and he was confident Kass would, too. The innocent Eyrie that Pharazon and Celice had met in the woods was gone—but perhaps something better had taken his place. Kass was a fighter, there was no doubt about that.

Pharazon rolled over and said, "Good night."

"Good night," Kass said, and in the hush that followed, Pharazon fell back asleep.

* * *

The chirping of Beekadoodles woke Pharazon, and with a lethargic snort he realised it was morning. The shutters were closed, allowing only thin slivers of morning light in, and he shivered with cold as he pulled himself out of bed.

Then he noticed he was the only one in the room. Kass's bed was neatly made, but the Eyrie was nowhere in sight.

Panic squeezed Pharazon's chest. He scrambled to the door and out into the hallway, and thought to go to Jhudora's and Celice's room. The door was unlocked, and neither of them were inside, either.

He hadn't wanted to jump to conclusions, but now Pharazon was honestly starting to worry that they might have taken off without him. But he was tired of letting his fears control him. There had to be a better explanation. Perhaps they were downstairs.

Unable to control himself, he fluttered his wings and shot down the stairway. The bottom floor of the inn was not as busy as last night, although scattered patrons still sat around tables, eating breakfast.

"Pharazon!" said a familiar voice. Waving at him from one of the tables was Celice. To either side of her sat Jhudora and Kass, with mugs of steaming borovan and plates of eggs and sausage spread out in front of them.

The Draik's heart leaped. "I'm so glad you guys are still here!" he said as he nearly collided with the Lupe.

Celice wrapped him in a big hug and scooted a plate and a mug toward him. "I'm sorry, we must have given you a scare," she said. "But we decided to let you sleep for a little longer. Our friend was just about to go wake you, actually." She motioned to Kass with her snout.

"Don't worry," the Eyrie said. "They know. That I know, I mean." He was still wearing Pharazon's scarf, but had tied back his long grey hair with a strand of yarn from one of the scarf's tassels.

"Good," Pharazon said with a smile before tucking into his eggs. It seemed as though neither of them were taking it very hard.

"Pharazon, I'm so sorry about last night," Celice said. "It was rough… this is definitely one of the strangest things I've ever gone through. But Jhudora and I got to talking… and I'm okay now. Let's all go to Market Town, the four of us."

"It's okay," Pharazon said. "I think last night was hard on all of us. Except for you," he said to Jhudora.

"Of course it was hard watching you run around in mental circles," Jhudora said. "But to make up for it, I've managed to restore Miss Anfel's magic capabilities."

"To a point," Celice said. "They're not back to a hundred percent yet, but she certainly expedited the healing." She grinned. "Now I can be more than moral support."

"As if that wasn't important by itself," Kass said.

Pharazon took a gulp of borovan and said, "I'm so glad we're friends."

"I'm glad, too," Celice said.

"Hear, hear," Kass said. He raised his mug. "A toast to the finest friends I have!"

"Huzzah!" Celice said, bumping her mug against his. Pharazon did the same, and even Jhudora joined in with an embarrassed smirk.

Everything seemed better in the morning, Pharazon thought as they ate. After everything he had been through, coming out the other end to find that things were okay and getting better felt like the best reward he could have asked for.

It was funny how a leap of faith could be so terrifying at first, but once one gave it that initial burst of courage, it became easier. Definitely the opposite of succumbing to fear and doubt, which just made things worse and worse until one drowned in one's own depression.

Pharazon thought he should be more frustrated at the entire process, but with all the peace and comfort and hope he was feeling, who had room for frustration? Things would work out, he was sure of it. They already were working out. This was so much better than the incident with Skoll.

After breakfast, they set out with their Uni driver. He was not a talkative sort, which everyone appreciated, as it left them with plenty of time alone in the carriage to plan for their arrival at Market Town.

The carriage was of standard size, which meant it was not built to comfortably accommodate a Draik, a Lupe, a rather large Eyrie, and a tall faerie. Kass and Jhudora had to sit slightly hunched over, their heads brushing against the ceiling, but Pharazon and Celice were comparatively small enough that altogether the four were not too squished in the seats.

"We're going straight to Black Keep," Celice said. "We can't waste a moment's more time."

"How far up the tower are they?" asked Jhudora, who was sat next to the Lupe.

"Pretty far," Pharazon said. "About halfway up. And it's a long climb." He grimaced. Just the thought of attempting that ascent again made his feet hurt.

"They may have set additional wards," Celice said. "I doubt they'd take any more chances after we stumbled upon them."

"Good point," Jhudora said. "All right, you and I will take point and disable any wards or traps. Kass will accompany Pharazon on his mission. If Fyora's knights get there in time, we can work with them. We're going to need to lob everything we've got at those sisters."

"They're that powerful?" Kass asked.

"Extremely powerful," Jhudora said. "They were the Darkest Faerie's right-hand women. Even if they've not yet fully manifested back onto this plane, they are not to be trifled with." Snorting, she blew a stray strand of hair out of her face. "Despite what their irritating personalities would have you believe."

Pharazon swung his feet anxiously. If Jhudora considered the Dark Faerie Sisters strong, that meant they had to be a real threat. "You guys can beat them," he said. "I know you can."

"Thanks," Celice said. "We'll certainly give it our all."

"If I only had a sword," Kass muttered, "I would be more help."

"Well, you've got your beak and your claws," Jhudora said, "so that's something." She paused and steepled her long fingers. "At any rate, your fight may not be entirely physical."

Kass shifted uncomfortably and said, "I know."

Pharazon gave him an encouraging smile, which the Eyrie returned. Just as Pharazon believed in Celice and Jhudora, he believed in Kass's ability to rid himself of the Three somehow. And Pharazon would stand by him, because that was what friends were for.

In theory, they should have arrived at Market Town by early afternoon. But that was without stops, and Uni drivers could not be expected to travel nonstop unless they were painted robot. This one in particular had a few deliveries to make along the way, and they also paused for lunch at another inn in a busy village. Pharazon and his friends ate quickly, but that did nothing to lessen the urgency hanging over the Draik's head. He couldn't get back on the road soon enough.

Now that the sun had passed its apex, everyone was a little antsier. "We'll get there soon," Jhudora said, but even she wore a scowl and kept tapping her fingers on the windowsill.

"I'm sorry," Celice said. "I thought he was going to be faster than this."

"It's not your fault," Jhudora said. "Next time we're going by Eyrie cab, though."

For the next couple of hours, none of them talked much. Pharazon pulled out from his travel bag the book he'd been reading and immersed himself in _Elephante Fossils_ for a bit. After he finished it, he lent it to Kass, who seemed happy for anything to keep his mind off of what was going on in his head currently.

As the old forests thinned into the coastal fields of the Brightvale region, Jhudora explained to them a little more about the history of the Darkest Knight. He had been an ally of the Darkest Faerie's back during the Golden Age of Altador, and she secretly supported him as he built up his reign over Market Town. He was her accomplice in her bid to take over Altador, and he had pledged to send troops to support her in a war they both anticipated, but nothing of that ever materialised due to her sealing. It was only a few years afterward that he, too, fell to his own hubris.

"Nasty fellow," Celice said. "No wonder bad faeries keep trying to bring him back. All of his loyal followers would probably return with him, I'll wager."

"Of course," Jhudora said. "The Dark Faerie Sisters would have not only a tyrannical warlord at their disposal, but the legions he commanded."

Kass shifted uncomfortably again.

Pharazon patted his arm. "The nice thing about tyrannical warlords," the Draik said, "is that they can change."

"I hope so," the Eyrie said. "For all our sakes, I hope so."

Jhudora glanced out the window and her grip on the windowsill tensed. "And here we are," she said.

Market Town had come into view again, its white cliffs and buildings tinged golden by the afternoon sun. It was still the same beautiful city Pharazon remembered from a few days ago—but it felt like Black Keep was casting an even darker pallor than usual. Pharazon couldn't quite put his finger on it. Certainly nothing looked different. It was more like a sensation in the back of his head that caused a pressure in his mind. He was used to sensing energy, but this energy was malevolent to the point of being agitating.

"They've grown stronger," Jhudora muttered. She was staring out at Black Keep as well, and her other hand moved to the wand in her pocket.

"I can tell," Pharazon said.

"Shades preserve us, those knights had better be punctual," Jhudora said.

Celice looked nervously over at the faerie, adjusting her spectacles on her snout. "How long does it take to fly from here to Faerieland?" she asked.

"About a day," Jhudora said. "If you're not pushing it. And they shouldn't, considering what they're up against."

"Well, whether they're there or not," Kass said, resting his ankle on his knee, "we're doing what we need to do."

Pharazon nodded and said, "Something's wrong about Black Keep that needs to be set right." That was the impression he kept getting. This was about more than the Dark Faerie Sisters. Pharazon had felt something broken ever since he'd first laid eyes on the place. And now it was calling out to him to get to the bottom of it.

While he honestly didn't know how well he would fare, he was determined to at least give it his all. No one could fault him anymore, he decided, for not trying.


	10. Chapter 10

As the carriage passed over the bridge and through the city gates, Pharazon shuddered. The dark energy here was so thick that it seemed to dim the very sunlight. Even Neopets on the streets seemed to at least notice something wasn't right, as they went about their day looking anxious and harried, like people trying to get all their business done before a storm hits.

"I get it," Celice murmured. "Black Keep is a nexus."

"What?" Kass asked.

"It was built with powerful magic," Celice said, "and over a millennium it's become a focal point for energy. The Dark Faerie Sisters are at an advantage here, not only because of the Darkest Knight but because the fortress itself amplifies their power."

Jhudora's lips thinned. "I hate to say this," she said, "but I may have underestimated things a bit."

"We can do this," Pharazon said. "We haven't come all this way for nothing." He looked at the faerie and Kass. "I've seen too many things work out for this to all fall apart now. If we're supposed to be here, that means we can accomplish whatever we've been called to do."

Celice smiled and said, "I do believe you're right. We've not been set up for failure."

"Where to?" the Uni driver called.

Pharazon stuck his head out the window and said, "Black Keep, please."

One of the Uni's ears flicked. "If you say so," he muttered, pulling them around a corner.

It was as they neared the keep that dread began to wash over Pharazon, that highly uncomfortable "what have I gotten myself into" feeling that plagues everyone who is about to do something incredibly daring.

 _Well, I don't know exactly what I've gotten myself into_ , Pharazon told himself, _but that's not a factor in my deciding to do it. Some things just have to be acted on in faith_. Still, he couldn't keep his hands from wringing in his lap.

Kass gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Be strong, my friend," the Eyrie said. "Surely we are not made to fail. Those who would have us believe such are liars."

He was referring to the Three, Pharazon knew. The Draik nodded and said, "You be strong too. All of you."

"I refuse to be anything less," Jhudora said.

The carriage pulled up to the large wall surrounding the tower complex, and Jhudora tipped the driver as the four got out. He departed rather quickly after that, with a noise that sounded slightly like "have a good day". Pharazon couldn't blame him for his hurried exit.

The gates were still unlocked and ajar, allowing him and his friends to slip through easily. It seemed as though Guildswoman Griselda had expected them to be finished shortly the other day, and when they hadn't returned, had forgotten about the entire business. Or purposely not remembered it. People here didn't seem to like being reminded of Black Keep.

And for good reason, Pharazon decided. The magic here had grown downright oppressive. Although it disturbed him, if he listened closely enough he thought he could almost hear voices, echoes of the past misfortunes this place had put Market Town through. He bit his lip and stayed close to the others. No matter what, he wasn't leaving until he'd done what he came here to do—whatever that was.

"I'll bet this place was beautiful back when it was still alive," Kass said, taking in the ruined buildings and ancient trees in the courtyard. "The architecture shows a remarkable artistry and skill. It seems as though there's quite a bit of Draconian influence as well."

"Do you know why that is?" Pharazon asked.

The Eyrie nodded and said, "The Draconians once traded more freely with their surrounding clans before becoming insular after the discovery of the Orb. They were known for their skills in magic and structural engineering, so it wouldn't surprise me if the Darkest Knight commissioned some of them to help build Black Keep." He smiled up at the ominous tower. "I rather like it, actually. It reminds me of home."

"Bully for you," Celice grumbled. "I'd like it better if it wasn't so _tall_."

Suddenly Pharazon felt a burst of new magic pierce through the miasma of darkness that surrounded Black Keep. This energy was clean and bright, and just its very presence seemed to fill him with new vigour.

"Onward, sisters!" shouted a voice like a call from a conch shell. "Today, we vanquish evil!"

Descending from the sky were six faeries, one of each element, dressed in light armour and carrying swords. Leading the other five was a water faerie perched on the back of a large faerie Lupe, also wearing armour.

Jhudora's eyes widened. "Oh, _no,_ " she said.

"Do you know them?" Celice asked.

"Unfortunately," Jhudora said. Closing her eyes, she pinched the bridge of her nose. "I ask Fyora for help and she sends me _these_ goody-goodies…"

The six faeries and the Lupe alit in front of Pharazon and his friends, blocking the bridge to Black Keep. "Hold!" the water faerie said, brandishing her sword. "Jhudora! I should have guessed you were behind this!"

"Me?!" Jhudora said. "Misty, I told you, the Meepit army was a mistake! I was attempting to cure Sarah and Daisy of their Skidget infestation!"

"If you please," Celice said, "we're trying to _stop_ the Dark Faerie Sisters, not help them. I assume you're the faerie knights we requested from Fyora?"

"Correct!" Misty said, striking a heroic pose. "SQUAD Squadron, in the service of Her Majesty, Queen Fyora!"

"SQUAD… Squadron?" Kass asked.

"It stands for 'Special Queen's Attack and Defence'," the faerie Lupe said, looking quite proud of himself.

"Brilliant," Kass said flatly.

"You're a disgrace to the fair folk, I hope you know," Jhudora said to the seven. "It's because of you that Neopets don't take us seriously! I'm especially disappointed in _you_ , Penumbra," she said, pointing an accusing finger at the dark faerie on the squad.

Penumbra tossed her black hair and said, "Your vile barbs shall merely glance off the armour of my valour, Jhudora."

"That's all well and good," Celice said, stepping in front of them and shooting Jhudora an annoyed glare. "We haven't come here so you faeries could have a spat, though." She pointed to Black Keep. "The Dark Faerie Sisters are up there, and Jhudora and I want to help you defeat them. I've confronted them before, and I can show you where they are."

Misty looked them over for a moment, then said, "Any help would be appreciated. Their threat level is extremely high. What of the Draik and the Eyrie?"

"Oh, don't faerie Draiks have the loveliest colouring?" the light faerie knight said with a smile.

"And look at those darling wings!" the air faerie beside her cooed.

Pharazon blushed bashfully and said, "Thanks—anyway, my friend and I have some other business to attend to." He felt he owed them a bit more information. "There's something weird about the energy here and we're going to fix it."

"Will you be all right?" the light faerie asked.

Kass nodded and said, "I'll keep him safe."

"Then let's go," Misty said. She motioned to Celice. "Lead the way."

SQUAD Squadron stepped aside to allow the sorceress to approach the bridge. As she did so, however, her fur bristled and she stepped back. "It's heavily warded," she said. "I suppose they didn't want anyone sneaking in the front door again." She frowned. "Oh, bother. We don't have time for this."

"Is there another way in?" Misty's Lupe mount asked.

Celice grimaced and said, "Sort of—"

"See those terraces that run along the outside?" Pharazon said, pointing upward. "You can get in through there."

Misty turned to her dark faerie companion and said, "Penumbra?"

The black-haired faerie extended a hand and closed her eyes. "The wards are weaker up there," she said.

"I think you're all forgetting," Celice said, "that there is a wingless individual in your midst."

"That's not a problem," Kass said, picking her up.

The Lupe bristled. "Ohhh, no!" she yelped. "I am _not_ going to be _flown_ in!"

"We can't climb!" Pharazon said. "By the time you guys dispel the ward down here, and we get up to the great hall, the sun could already have set!" It was low enough in the sky now to make him really start to worry.

Usually, spells that required that Kreludor be in a certain phase had to wait until the moon rose to shed its light upon the proceedings. But when Kreludor was new, it was aligned with the sun and only above the horizon during the day—which meant a spell that required the night of the new moon could be activated as soon as Kreludor set, around the same time as sundown.

"Fine," Celice said. "Just get it over with quickly."

Misty raised her sword and shouted, "Excelsior!" Beating their wings, the five other faeries and Misty's Lupe companion shot into the air.

Pharazon and Jhudora followed, and Kass snapped out his great purple wings and leaped into the air.

"By Hagan's beard," Celice said, clinging to his mane, " _don't drop me!_ "

"I've had quite enough of dropping people for one lifetime," Kass said wryly, which was enough to elicit the smallest smile from the anxious Lupe.

"I thought you said you couldn't fly," Pharazon said as Kass pulled ahead of them and SQUAD Squadron so Celice could show them which terrace to aim for.

"Not sustained flight," Kass said, "but I think I can manage a short burst like this." Still, he was beginning to look fatigued. He clenched his jaw and angled his wings to catch a better updraft.

Setting his sights on the terrace about halfway up the tower, Pharazon felt a concentration of dark energy so focussed it was almost painful, like a pinch.

"There's the ward!" Penumbra said.

"All together now, ladies!" Misty shouted. The knights drew their swords and Jhudora pulled out her wand, and Celice managed to pry one of her paws loose from Kass's mane to help.

Their weapons flashed with power, and the spell bulged and strained, so much that Pharazon could see the energy warp with his natural vision—and then it burst and the group poured through onto the terrace.

As Pharazon touched down on the black stone, he felt revulsion work its way up his spine and he shuddered. This magic felt just as wrong and evil as the Well of Souls two years ago. It was something he honestly hoped he would never have to experience again. But now, faced with just such a thing, he found he no longer wanted to run from it. He would defeat it this time.

"Are you all right?" Kass asked as he set Celice down.

"I'm never doing that again," the Lupe said, straightening her robes. She paused and looked down at Pharazon. "Oh, you meant him."

"I'm fine," the Draik gasped. "The magic is just… overwhelming. But I know you guys can beat them. I'll go do my thing."

"I'm glad you're all right, too," Kass said to Celice.

She offered him a thin smile and said, "Thanks."

"Where are you headed?" Misty asked Pharazon as the group made their way inside. The faeries' swords shone with magic corresponding to their element, and green smoke swirled around Jhudora's wand. Celice had two flames at the ready.

In their company, Pharazon felt woefully underprepared, and looking over at Kass he thought the Eyrie must as well. "I don't exactly know," he said. "I'm sure I'll find out if I keep going." It was really how he had lived the past few days, but to be completely honest it had worked out great. Now, of course, he was putting all of that to the test. Or perhaps he was putting himself to the test.

"Through that door," Celice said, pointing down a large hallway that Pharazon remembered. Her nose wrinkled. "Oh my, yes, they're definitely still in there, stinking up the place with that foul magic of theirs." She looked over at Penumbra and Jhudora. "No offense, ladies."

"My noble shadow magic is a different brand than that of these depraved creatures," Penumbra said.

"I never could stand you," Jhudora muttered to the knight. "None taken, Celice."

It was as they started down the hall that Pharazon took notice of a staircase on one wall, and he wondered where it went. The sudden burst of curiosity struck him as odd. He was here on a mission, and he didn't have time to absently wonder about architectural details.

Then he realised it was because he felt like he was supposed to go up there. His steps slowed until he lingered behind the others.

Kass noticed his absence and looked back at him. "Pharazon?" the Eyrie asked.

"Follow me," the Draik said, pushing off from the floor and fluttering toward the first landing of the stairway.

"On my mark," Misty said from further down the hall, "we break this ward and then charge!"

A few wingbeats later, Kass touched down on the landing beside Pharazon. "Are you sure they'll be all right facing the Dark Faerie Sisters?" the Darigan warlord asked.

"I know they can do it," Pharazon said. "It's not our fight." With that, he continued up the stairs.

He knew he should be more afraid right now, but mostly he was just curious. Black Keep had been calling to him this whole time, and he desperately wanted to find out why.

Faintly below him, he sensed a sudden surge of magic and heard shouts, and he balled his fists, trying not to think of the struggle going on between magic users. He and Kass were needed elsewhere.

The two kept climbing further into the heights of the tower, and Pharazon noticed their surroundings were even more extravagant than anything he had seen below. These were residential areas, albeit for the very elite, filled with cobweb-covered luxurious furniture and time-faded paintings and tapestries.

"This must have been where the Darkest Knight and his courtiers lived," Kass said quietly. "These upper floors would have been the safest part of the tower, and they give the best vantage point to survey the domain."

"I think so," Pharazon said. "I wonder if you can get up onto the roof from…" He trailed off. Kass had stopped abruptly, and when Pharazon saw why, his blood froze.

Standing in the hallway in front of them were three spectral figures wearing dark cloaks. A faerie, a Gelert, and a Skeith clustered together, regarding the Eyrie and the Skeith with cold calculation and grave expressions.

"So, you return to us," the faerie said.

Kass's feathers ruffled. "We didn't come for you," he growled.

"You heeded our call," the Skeith said, looking directly at Pharazon.

Pharazon wished he could disappear. "No—" he choked. It couldn't be—he thought he was doing the right thing this time. How could he have possibly messed up again? Could he not trust his heart, after all?

"You see, Kass?" the Gelert said. The Three began to spread out and pace around the pair. "You will always return to us. It is inevitable. Even that fool Lord Darigan will fall again."

"No!" Kass roared. "You lie! You lied to me before and you lie now! Darigan is forever freed from your influence, and that means I can be as well!"

Pharazon felt a wave of panic wash over him. What in the world had he gotten them into? Why was this happening?

What could he trust?

The faerie laughed and said, "Wake up to reality, Kass. You are ours. You gave yourself to us, and you are forever ours."

Pharazon shut his eyes, trying to drown out their voices so he could think. He could trust his heart. He was doing good. He was actually trying this time, instead of letting his anger and hatred drive him. He had not done everything that felt right just to have it all come to ruin.

And something felt wrong about the situation.

As soon as he figured it out, his eyes flew open. "You _are_ lying," he said, a bit surprised that he had the gall to talk back to the Three. " _You_ didn't call me here at all. The feeling I get from you is different than what's been pulling me this whole time."

The trio of phantoms paused, and Pharazon realised he'd called their bluff. He grinned fiercely and said, "I think—no, I _know_ you're lying to Kass, too! You're just mad because Darigan turned away from you and now Kass is trying, too! Well, guess what? You won't take him!"

"Impudent brat!" the Gelert snarled, raising his sword.

Kass rushed him. Despite the Three's seeming intangibility, the Eyrie somehow tackled the Gelert to the floor and tried to wrest the sword away from him. "Pharazon, go!" Kass said. "I'll be fine!"

"Kass—" Pharazon took a halting step forward as the Skeith and the faerie moved in to attack the Draconian.

"Go!" Kass said again. "Do what you came here to do!" He batted the Skeith away with one large paw and kicked at the faerie, who fluttered out of reach.

Pharazon knew he was right. Taking a deep breath, he ran past the scuffle and down the hall, to the next flight of stairs.

Now, as he ascended, he was strained not only by the urgency that fueled his steps, but by the knowledge that he was alone. Why, he wondered, did he have to keep doing these sorts of things alone?

But he wasn't really alone, he realised. Even though his friends could not be physically present, their faith in him stayed with him. They were rooting him on and they helped him get this far. They lent him the strength he needed.

Opening a door at the end of a stairway, Pharazon found himself in another large hall. This one was not as imposing as the one the Dark Faerie Sisters were using downstairs, and seemed more lavishly decorated, with curtains on the tall windows and a platform where a few rusted musical instruments sat. It was a ballroom, he thought, for the Darkest Knight's lords and ladies.

The Draik wandered out into the centre of the room, wondering what it must have been like in its heyday. He could nearly hear the conversations, the laughter, and the music of a social event over a thousand years ago.

"Kass has fallen," said a terrifyingly familiar voice from behind him, and Pharazon spun around to see the Three staring at him again.

His stomach clenched, but he knew by now not to take what they said at face value. "Prove it," he hissed. "Show him to me." When they took a moment too long to respond, he added, "I'll bet he's gotten rid of you for good, and now you're extra mad about it."

The Gelert growled, but said nothing. The faerie stepped forward, concern on her face. "Pharazon," she said, "We're just trying to help you."

"Oh, like you 'helped' Kass and Darigan?" Pharazon said. "No thanks to _that_."

"You've got it all completely wrong," the faerie said. "Don't you see? You know you can't trust yourself. Don't you remember what happened with Skoll?"

"Why are you bothering with this?" the Skeith asked. "It shouldn't be your problem. Celice was wrong to make you come out here and get you caught up in this, when you could be back at home with your books and your family."

Pharazon jutted out his chin and said, "No. She needs me. Kass needs me, Black Keep needs me. I think even Jhudora needs me, in a way."

"Why do you trust them so?" the Gelert asked. "They only use you for their benefit."

"We help each other," Pharazon said, grinding his foot into the marble floor. "It's called friendship. Something you'll never understand."

"You don't want to do this," the faerie said. "You're ruining everything again. You will regret this."

Pharazon gritted his teeth. That was the last thing he wanted to hear. Messing up terrified him. Who could he trust?

He could trust those who proved themselves trustworthy.

Breathing in the musty air of the sunset-lit ballroom, he snorted out a puff of faerie magic. "I don't trust you!" he shouted, louder than he meant to. "I don't trust you and I'm done arguing with you! I'm going to fix things here, if only because you don't want me to! Because that means it's definitely got to be done!" And with that, he turned and ran.

"Come back!" the Skeith called. "You're making a grave mistake!"

Pharazon kept running and didn't so much as glance back. The Three were wrong. Sometimes, people were just plain wrong. But his own heart would always steer him right.

As he ducked into another hallway, he thought he heard the Gelert shout something else, but he paid it no heed. He had to settle the matter of Black Keep, and soon. At any rate, in just a few minutes he would know whether or not his friends had succeeded in preventing the Dark Faerie Sisters from completing the summoning.

On the landing for the next floor up was a set of oaken doors, and Pharazon felt to push one of them open. He found himself inside a sitting room that, if not for its age, would have been rather comfortable. The couches were plush and the rug thick and soft, and a large bay window at the far end of the room looked out over the sea.

And someone was sat in one of the couches at the window.


	11. Chapter 11

Pharazon's breath caught in his throat and he felt a pang of emotion run through him. This felt overwhelmingly right. Quietly, he crept across the rug toward the figure.

It was a large, brown, bearded Skeith wearing black armour. Helmet cradled under one arm, he stared out at the ocean, his expression stern and melancholy. Pharazon thought he resembled Skarl and Hagan slightly, and he seemed thin somehow—not in girth, but in existence. Like a ghost.

Or a spirit.

As Pharazon approached, the Skeith's ears pricked and he turned to regard the Draik. "Hello," he said in a voice so tired and sad that Pharazon instantly felt sorry for him. "Are you trying to resurrect me, too?"

Pharazon blinked, and quickly shook his head and said, "No, sir" He squared his shoulders. "My friends are downstairs, trying to stop the ones who are."

"They won't be able to," the Darkest Knight murmured. "They don't know the Dark Faerie Sisters' names."

"Malice, Spite, and Vanity, right?" Pharazon said.

The Darkest Knight sighed and shook his head. "Their real names," he said. "You cannot bind or grey a faerie unless you know her real name." Seeming resolved to his fate, he returned to staring out the window.

Pharazon frowned. This could be a problem. But it was not why he had come up here, and as the Darkest Knight had spoken to him, Pharazon realized something. "You don't want to be resurrected, do you," he said.

The knight turned to regard him again and said, "Long ages ago… I fell to the allure of three phantoms who promised me if I did as they said, I would become lord of my own kingdom. As I listened to them more and more, I became ruthless and selfish, a tyrant to my people. Of course they turned on me. And when I appealed to the Three for help… they called me a failure and watched me fall."

He set his helmet on the couch beside him and held his head in his hands. "But my spirit lived on," he said, "and I am tormented by my regrets. Every day I look out on this fair city, and remember how I oppressed it, and all of the opportunities I have forever lost. My only wish now is that I could have been a better lord to them."

"I'm sorry," Pharazon said.

"When the Darkest Faerie returned eleven years ago," the Darkest Knight said, "she wasted no time in resurrecting me. I didn't want it, but she used her evil magic to override my will. Although I was back in my body again, I was her puppet, and I had to go through the nightmare of watching her terrorize Market Town through me." He closed his eyes. "It was a relief when that knight and sorceress defeated me once more."

Pharazon didn't know what to tell him. Everything seemed a proper mess. His friends weren't going to be able to stop the Dark Faerie Sisters, and the Darkest Knight would once again have a slew of events to add to his long list of regrets. He reached over and wrung his tail. Was this the end of the line?

Then an idea formed in his mind. His eyes lit up and he dropped his tail. "The Dark Faerie Sisters can't resurrect you if you're not here," he said.

"What?" the Darkest Knight asked.

Pharazon held out his hand and said, "Give me your hand. I'm going to heal you."

The Skeith gave him a sceptical look and said, "You can't heal me of anything. I'm already dead."

"I think I can release the energy binding you to Black Keep," Pharazon said. "Please, just trust me. I want to help you." He had no idea where the idea came from, but he was going to run with it. If he could sense energy so sensitively, perhaps that meant he could work with it easily as well.

The Darkest Knight hesitated, but slipped his large gloved hand around Pharazon's claws and said, "All right…"

Pharazon hoped that his heart would show him the way once more, and then he remembered how Jhudora had looked at the ley lines through him. He wondered if he could replicate that vision, and he pooled his concentration into doing so.

Suddenly the world lit up with energy again, surprising him so much that he nearly let go of the Darkest Knight. Magic of all types networked through the world around him, but Pharazon's attention was focused on that surrounding the knight.

This was the sad and forlorn magic Pharazon had felt when he and Celice first came to Black Keep, he realised. Centuries upon centuries of regrets had piled up here, creating a net keeping the Darkest Knight from leaving. He was swarmed by knots and tangles of energy.

Pharazon was tempted to simply try to sweep them away, but instead he reached out with his free hand and gently teased the lines into place. As he did, the tension in the air ebbed, and he could sense the feeling around Black Keep getting better. That was the only way to describe it, as if the entire fortress was taking a deep breath of relief.

Finally only one strong cord remained, and Pharazon couldn't get it to budge no matter what he tried.

"What is it?" the Darkest Knight asked.

"You have to forgive yourself," Pharazon said. "That's the only thing holding you back."

The Skeith ducked his head and said, "I don't know if I can."

"Well, I've forgiven you," Pharazon said, "and I think you're strong enough to do the same. Just let it go. You're okay now. You're going to do better from now on."

The Darkest Knight scrunched up his face and nodded. He looked pained for a second, and then he relaxed and looked back at Pharazon. "Yes… you're right," he said. "Thank you."

The cord of magic snapped. Suddenly the entire air around Black Keep felt different. It still felt old and carried the weight of history, but all of the sadness and fear was gone.

The Darkest Knight stood up and grabbed his helmet, a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. "They're coming," he said, sounding choked with tears as he stared at something past Pharazon. "They've forgiven me too, and they're coming for me."

"I'm so glad," Pharazon said with a grin. He was tired after that exercise, but it had been entirely worth it.

The Darkest Knight stepped around him, already looking thinner. As he began to fade, he paused and looked back at the Draik. "Typheles, Arza, and Lacuna," he said in a barely audible voice, and then he was gone.

Pharazon wrinkled his snout, wondering what the knight had just said—and then he figured it out. His eyes bulged and he raced to the door. "Typheles, Arza, Lacuna," he muttered under his breath. "Typheles, Arza, Lacuna!"

"Pharazon!" a familiar voice called from down the stairs.

The Draik's face lit up and he soared down the steps, colliding with Kass who pulled him into a fierce hug. "You're all right!" the Eyrie said. "Thank goodness, you're all right!"

"I knew you could do it!" Pharazon sputtered. "You got rid of the Three, didn't you!"

"So did you!" Kass said. "They're gone—they won't bother us any more, I know it!"

"I did it!" Pharazon said. "I released the Darkest Knight! He's left, the Dark Faerie Sisters can't bring him back!"

Kass's beak hung open and then he laughed. "Of course!" he said. "What an elegant solution! And one only you would think of, I'm sure!"

"We have to get back to the great hall," Pharazon said. "He gave me the key to defeating the Sisters."

"Well, let's not waste our time with stairs when we know where we're going," Kass said. He led Pharazon to the next floor down and found a window that opened. The two plummeted into the air and spiraled down around the tower until they reached the great hall level's terrace.

Pharazon nearly skidded onto the stone, and scrambled inside, back down the hallway, toward the room where he'd made the fateful decision to teleport two days ago. Even mistakes could be turned to great good, he decided, as long as one didn't give up.

The doors to the hall hung askew on their hinges, and past them echoed flashes of light and battle cries. Pharazon slowed his pace lest he be hit by an errant spell.

Kass hovered behind him, and the two took a moment to observe the fight. The faeries fluttered around in midair, lobbing spells at each other, while Celice tried her best to keep up from the ground. Several times someone would target the spell circle, but the Dark Faerie Sisters seemed to be guarding it specifically.

"You shall not win!" Misty shouted, swiping her sword at Malice from the back of her Lupe mount. "We shall be your bane!"

Malice flipped back through the air and laughed. "You say that," she said, "but you have yet to best us!"

"And it's too late now!" Spite said with a giggle, thrusting a wave of darkness at Jhudora. The good dark faerie clutched her wand in shaking hands as she diverted the magic blast around herself. Spite sneered. "It's time for the summoning!"

Pharazon glanced out the windows. The sun had set. This was it. "Go ahead and try!" he shouted, striding into the room.

At first, no one heard him above the cacophony of battle, but then Celice noticed him. "Pharazon! Kass!" she called. "Get out of here! They're going to bring back the Darkest Knight—we've failed—" she stammered.

Pharazon shook his head, knowing he must have looked like a madman. "And I say, let them try. Go ahead!" he shouted to the sisters.

"Is this some sort of bluff?" Envy asked. "Do you think you're smarter than us, you little pest?" She swooped past the fire faerie and the earth faerie knights to hover near the spell circle. "I'll show you who's smart! Malice, Spite! C'mon!"

"Now's our chance! Attack!" Misty said.

"Don't you dare!" Jhudora said, flaring her wings in front of the knight. "Don't you know anything? Summoning spells are incredibly complex—if we interfere and it goes awry, it could spell disaster for us all!"

"Well," the fire faerie said, "maybe if you'd done a better job helping us hold them off, we could have stopped them sooner!"

Pharazon ignored their bickering to focus on the Dark Faerie Sisters. He shot Celice a reassuring glance, and the Lupe edged closer to him and Kass. "Please tell me you know what you're doing," she muttered.

"It'll be okay," he said, giving her paw a squeeze. "I promise."

The dark faerie trio stood around the circle, raised their hands, and began to chant. The circle flared with energy for one awful moment—and then it unwound like a musician playing a wrong note. The sisters screamed and staggered back, and the magic flickered and died.

"Wh-what happened?!" Malice wailed, holding her head as she tried to regain her balance. The other two looked equally disoriented.

"You can't resurrect someone who's not here," Pharazon said with a grin.

Spite grimaced, her wings stretching in pain. "You—little—!" she hissed. She stretched out her hand toward Pharazon, and dark magic began to coalesce around it.

He stood his ground and said, "Typheles, Arza, Lacuna! Those are your real names!"

"No!" Spite screeched. "How did you know?!" Her face twisted with hatred and her attack spell grew larger.

Suddenly a wicked blast of silver energy hit the three. They stood rigid as the magic jolted through their bodies, and Pharazon looked up to see it coming from Jhudora's wand.

The dark faerie's hair and dress swirled with power as she glowered at the three. "I revoke your power and remove your wings!" she bellowed in a terrifying tone Pharazon had never heard her use. "Typheles! Arza! Lacuna!" At each name, one of the faeries crumpled to the floor and the magic coalesced around them.

When it faded, it left three huddled bundles around the broken remnants of the spell circle. The sisters' clothes had faded in colour, and where wings once sprouted from their backs were nothing but a few wilted feathers. Slowly, painfully, they moved to their hands and knees, moaning.

"She greyed them," Celice said, putting a paw to her muzzle. "I—I've never seen a greying before." Her voice was quiet and she shook slightly. "I don't think I ever want to again."

Kass put an arm around her shoulders and said, "Me either. Although I don't think I'd mind seeing that stupid faerie phantom greyed."

"That might not be possible," Jhudora said, alighting next to them. "There are some fell entities that roam the planes of reality, and it's conceivable that three of them decided to take the forms of a faerie, a Gelert, and a Skeith."

"I'm so glad they're gone," Pharazon said.

"Did you bring containment bottles?" Jhudora asked SQUAD Squadron.

"Of course," Misty said, unfastening some from her utility belt as her Lupe mount flew her down to the three grey faeries. She gave one bottle each to the earth faerie and fire faerie, and simultaneously they popped the corks.

Out of the bottles swirled a vapour of magic that encircled the Dark Faerie Sisters, stretching and pulling them into their glass holds like they were made of taffy. When the mist fully retreated into the bottles, the knights pushed the corks back in.

"Fyora's going to want a word with these three," Misty said, inspecting the miniaturised grey faeries who moped against the glass walls. The water faerie shook her head before attaching them to her belt. "Well, that's that."

She and the others looked over to Pharazon and his companions. "Thank you for your assistance," Misty said. "However in the world did you know their names?"

Pharazon smiled and said, "A friend told me."

"We had best be off to Fyora," Penumbra said, shooting an irritated glare at a smug-looking Jhudora.

"Fare thee well, dear Neopians," Misty said with a sweeping bow. "May truth and goodness always guide you!"

"I think it does," Pharazon said.

"Just dispense with the theatrics and leave already," Jhudora said, flicking a hand at the knights.

Penumbra took a moment to smudge out the remnants of the spell circle with her boot, and then joined the others as they retreated toward the doors. She paused and tossed a smile over her shoulder at the three Neopets and the other dark faerie. "Well done today," was all she said before she left.

Celice glanced up at Jhudora and said, "You're not going with them?"

"They can manage on their own," Jhudora said with a smirk. "Things have gotten rather interesting here. I think I'll stick around for a bit."

"I'm glad to hear it," Pharazon said. He looked over at the Lupe sorceress who had been there for him through all of this. "Celice… do you really think I'd make a good mage?"

She put a paw on his head and said, "Well, I'll give it to you straight. You're not the most powerful wizard I've ever met. You've got a long way to go in the skill department. And you're certainly no naturally-talented Chosen One destined to fulfill prophecy or anything like that." Her muzzle broke into a grin. "But you have potential. And the most important part of the whole thing is what you use your abilities for—and you used them for great good today."

"Thanks," Pharazon said. He turned to Kass. "The Three kept trying to get me to think I was making a mistake. They kept telling me I was doing the wrong thing. I don't get it—I thought they were supposed to appeal to a person's greed, ambition, and wish for vengeance."

"Do you possess any of those things?" Kass asked.

The Draik thought a moment and said, "Well—I really don't think I'm greedy or ambitious, but I thought for sure they'd talk to me about revenge."

"Do you have anyone you would like to seek revenge on?" Kass asked.

Pharazon thought again. A feeling of peace settled in his heart and he closed his eyes with a smile. "No… I've forgiven them all," he said.

Kass patted his shoulder and said, "Then they could not tempt you through any of their usual methods. Think no more on it. You have passed your test. Move on to better days ahead."

"It's getting awfully gloomy in here," Celice remarked. With the setting of the sun, the great hall was nearly devoid of light. "We ought to head back to the Traders' Guild and report our mission complete."

"Good idea," Pharazon said.

The four made their way back out to the terrace, but the view was so lovely that they all stopped to appreciate it. The stars had come out, creating a celestial counterpart to the lights that glittered in the city below. Past them, the hills and mountains receded into the dusk, and off to the south, a layer of fog had begun to roll in from the sea like a fluffy grey blanket that would soon envelop Market Town. Even Celice, who initially clung to the inside wall, gradually crept closer to the balustrade to peer out at the landscape.

Pharazon folded his arms on the ledge and said, "I think I want to focus on healing and mana manipulation."

"Oh?" Celice asked.

"Well, I seem to naturally gravitate toward the former," Pharazon said. "And as for the latter, I've seen what happens to spellcasters when magic isn't channelled properly. I don't want to make those same kinds of mistakes."

Celice pulled her cloak around herself to keep out the night chill and said, "Those fields aren't too widely studied, you know. Most mages prefer flashier pursuits—combat magic, magitechnology, that sort of thing. I think you'd be a great asset in your areas of choice. Like you said, they're ones most people tend to forget about, and that can be dangerous."

"Not to mention," Jhudora said, "you've got something many magicians lack."

"What's that?" Pharazon asked.

"You have heart," the faerie said. "You'd be surprised how many magic users struggle with that. It's why so many of them turn."

"I won't," Pharazon said.

"I know," Jhudora said. "Because you listen to your heart." She climbed up onto the ledge and stretched her wings. "Well, I'm certainly not going down the land-bound way. Are you all joining me?"

Pharazon clambered up next to her and said, "Sure. I think we should all go out for a nice, big dinner after this. We all deserve it."

"Do you mind?" Kass asked Celice.

The Lupe chewed on her lip before letting out an exasperated sigh. "If we must," she said. "I do trust you won't drop me." Still, her tail was curled and her ears low as Kass picked her up and spread his wings.

Jhudora led the glide down from the tower, and Pharazon and Kass followed her, spiralling around the enormous structure as the rooftops rose up to greet them. The exhilaration from what had just happened had worn off, leaving Pharazon feeling mostly hungry and exhausted—but satisfied. He was okay. Things were going to be okay. He had triumphed, and no one could take that away from him.

Banking closer to Kass, he asked, "What are you going to do now?"

"I have to return to Darigan Citadel," Kass said, "and answer for my crimes." His jaw clenched and Pharazon thought he saw fear in the proud Eyrie's crimson eyes.

"Let me come with you," Pharazon said. "You're my friend, Kass, and I'm not going to abandon you now."

"Same here," Celice said. "Lord Darigan's got to go easy on you after everything you've been through. Especially if we're vouching for you."

Jhudora soared close to them and laughed. "Oh, yes, I'm definitely not leaving now," she said. "I want to see how this will go down."

"He'll be okay," Pharazon said. "I'm sure of it." His heart was telling him as much, and Pharazon knew all about listening to his heart. But Kass still looked tense, so Pharazon wanted to change the subject. "What about after that, Kass?"

"You mean if I'm not thrown in the dungeons?" Kass asked with a hoarse chuckle. His smirk faded and he looked up at Black Keep. "Well… I'll be honest, I've been doing some thinking. It's a real shame to leave something like this empty and abandoned. I think, with a bit of fixing up, it could be livable." He paused. "If Lord Darigan and King Hagan and the Traders' Guild give the all-clear… I'd like to be the new lord of Black Keep."

"Lord Kass of Black Keep," Celice said. "I like it. Has a nice ring to it."

The three winged individuals alighted on the ancient stone outside the tower, and Kass set Celice down before turning to look back at the fortress. "Thank you," he said. "I think so as well."

"And of course it's unwise to leave such a powerful magic nexus unguarded," Jhudora said. "I think you'd do a fine job of protecting it." She folded her wings over her shoulders and ushered them back toward the gates. "All right, let's see what they've got for food in this corner of Brightvale."

"Yes, let's," Celice said. "I'm starved, and we've still got some travelling to do."

Pharazon found himself trailing behind, and glanced over to see Kass doing the same. The two fell into step with each other as they made their way over cracked flagstones and patches of encroaching grass. The place still seemed worn and a bit sad, Pharazon thought, but the negative energy was gone. Now Black Keep just seemed still and sleeping—waiting for a new lord to claim it.

The Draik looked over his shoulder at the dark tower, and then back to his Eyrie friend. "You know," Pharazon said, "I think Black Keep would make a really great lighthouse."

Kass smiled and said, "I think so as well."

No more needed to be said as they followed Jhudora and Celice back to the bustle of Market Town. Pharazon didn't know how much longer he would be away from home, but he didn't pine for his books as much as he had before. He had other things to focus on right now—friends who needed him. He would return to Altador when the time was right.

Already he had begun to compose a Neomail to his family in his head. Perhaps he wouldn't tell them the whole story yet, but he would thank them for their faith in him and say that he was doing well and getting a lot done.

And he would let them know that he'd found himself at Black Keep.


End file.
